


Operation Red Zone

by Nooty



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, But Not Much, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Explicit Language, Fluff, Honestly it's a mess, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, like me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26488132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nooty/pseuds/Nooty
Summary: Grief comes in all shapes and sizes and can make people lose themselves.Passion AU whereby Angelus' actions lead to dire consequences(As you can tell, it's a totally happy fic)
Relationships: Angel/Buffy Summers, Cordelia Chase/Xander Harris, Daniel "Oz" Osbourne/Willow Rosenberg, Jenny Calendar/Rupert Giles
Comments: 25
Kudos: 30





	1. Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "After Jenny's death, what if things get seriously messy for the Scoobies? Like way messier than in the show." 
> 
> Just go with me on this...
> 
> This is basically a massive (for me at least) fic that stemmed from 2,000 words and my inability to just stop when I probably should. I can explain and justify the processes behind all of it, but I probably won't until the end because my rambling is boring and quite frankly, nobody cares. I will say that this, as with everything I write, is partially inspired by countless other magnificent fics I've read over the years, I just wanted to add my own twist. Also, I changed the order of some stuff because I felt like it fitted better with where the story was going. It is somewhat finished so uploads should be regular providing I don't throw a hissy fit. 
> 
> Takes place during S2E17- Passion, to be honest you’ll figure it out.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I obviously don't own anything; I just play here. All mistakes are my own incompetence.
> 
> Enjoy

Buffy holds the trembling Watcher to her as her own tears fall. The cold concrete is killing her knees but it’s the only thing grounding her from having a total breakdown, which she can’t afford to do. Right now, Buffy needs to be the grown up because Giles can’t. 

Grief threatens to overwhelm him. Jenny, his magnificent Jenny is gone. It hurts to breathe but that could be smoke inhalation. It doesn’t matter. Every breath he takes is one that Jenny doesn’t. If he and Jenny hadn’t been together, she wouldn’t have been a target. He’s certain of that. Thus, it’s his fault that she is gone. Get a grip Rupert. 

He swiftly goes through every single interaction he ever had with Jenny. From their first encounter in the faculty room when discussing scanning the library’s books into the computers to going out for Mexican, and the too few quiet nights in. He will never get to do that again. Never get to see her smile, or hear her laugh, or feel her in his arms ever again.

Sensing that they’re going to be there a while, Buffy gets into a more comfortable position and pulls him tighter to her. Giles flops into her arms as he cries. That alone upsets her, never mind the reason why. Giles doesn’t cry, he barely displays any emotion full stop. After several longer minutes, his tears eventually slow, and Buffy gently rocks him in her arms unsure of what else to do. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” she coos with a shaky voice. Finally, Giles sits back and scrubs his hands over his face. He didn’t want to have her see him like this but it’s a bit too late at this point. He turns away, finding comfort in the dark hiding him from her. 

The distant blaring of sirens, must be a fire truck, alerts them that it’s time to get out of here. The last thing they need is to be questioned as to why the building is burning to the ground. Buffy doesn’t really know what to do at this point. She doesn’t want him to go back to his flat, secretly she doesn’t think she can stomach seeing it ever again. He clearly can’t be left on his own in this condition, sleepover at the library it is. “Where’s your car?” 

Giles doesn’t answer, instead nodding slightly in the direction of the trusty Citroen. He hadn’t planned what happens next, he didn’t want there to be a next to worry about. Buffy reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his keys before getting to her feet. Her legs tingle at the circulation returning and she reaches her hand out to Giles. When he doesn’t move, she nudges his shoulder with her knee. 

“C’mon. Let’s go,” she pulls him to his feet and holds his large hand in both of hers as they head to the car. “Would you like me to drive us back to the Library?” Normally, Giles would be flapping about how there’s no way she can drive his car, mainly because her driving is downright appalling at best. He silently takes back his keys and slips into the driver’s seat, transfixed by the flames licking the sides of the building. Right, next challenge, get back to the school alive. Considering his current state, Giles knows he shouldn’t be behind the wheel. Focusing on getting Buffy somewhere safe is enough to snap him out of it and start the ignition. 

“We can’t go back to the school,” he murmurs keeping his eyes on the flames. 

“Why not?” Buffy asks. 

“The Police are there.” 

“What’s going on Giles?” At the desperate look on his face, Buffy sighs. They can’t go back to hers because her mother is there, plus it’d be weird to come up with an excuse as to why Giles has shown up at this hour like this. There’s also been too many unexpected visitors to the Summers’ household tonight. Xander’s is out by default, Willow’s parents are away on a conference. Maybe that’d fly? 

It’s a long twenty minutes but the Citroen pulls up in the Summers’ empty driveway. That’s strange, it wasn’t empty earlier when she left. 

“Wait here for a second,” Buffy instructs hoping he’ll listen. The slight nod of his head is enough of a confirmation, and he cuts the engine. The Slayer all but sprints into the house closing the door behind her, leaving her mentor alone in the dark. 

“What happened?” Xander asks. Buffy shakes her head and sighs deeply. 

“Is Giles okay?” Willow asks with tears in her eyes. 

“Where’s Mom?” Buffy interrupts. Now is not the time to be leaving anyone outside where the evil nasties can get them, especially not tonight. She needs to get back to Giles, needs to get him somewhere safe. 

“She got a call from one of her friends, something about an emergency so she took off. She left you a note in the kitchen and we promised to stay over so you’re not alone,” Xander explains. 

“Perfect. Can one of you start making tea or something, I’ll bring Giles in.” Buffy hurries out of the door leaving the bemused others to sort out comfort food. Hot chocolate might be a good idea, maybe with those little marshmallows and whipped cream. They can easily sort that out once they figure out how to put one foot in front of the other. 

“Giles please don’t argue, it’s late and I don’t want you to be on your own,” Buffy explains bluntly, far too tired to argue. He follows her wordlessly, enjoying the lack of control of the situation. He’s not ready to be able to make any form of decision about anything quite yet. “Just to warn you, the gang are all here. Mom’s out at a friend’s place and won’t be back until later tomorrow.” With another nod, Giles trudges up the steps and into the Summers’ house. He’s not quite sure what to do with himself so just stands awkwardly by the door. If we’re counting the five stages of grief, Giles is back at square one with denial. How can Jenny be gone? She was alive and well barely two hours before he got home. It’s not possible. 

“Hey Big Guy,” Xander calls softly from the kitchen doorway. He’s unsure how much time has passed when the voice startles him from his thoughts, must’ve been a while. “We made hot cocoa. Didn’t want to have you getting grouchy because we ruined the fine art of tea making.” Giles doesn’t particularly want hot chocolate, he’s not too sure that he can stomach anything at this point, but at the relieved look on Xander’s face when he starts to head towards the kitchen, realises it’s more of a comfort to his friend. Of course, the children would need to feel useful. 

“Where are the others?” The Watcher asks, startled at how croaky he sounds. 

“Buffy’s taking a shower, Will went with her and Cordy is in the living room watching TV,” Xander replies. He tilts his head in order to really look at the older man. Are those bruises underneath the dirt and grime? “You know, soot and smoke don’t create a particularly healthy scent when it’s layered on that thick. Maybe you should grab a shower when the girls get back.” 

“I’m perfectly fine thank you.” Xander rolls his eyes at the statement. Sure, you are totally fine, he thinks. Different plan of attack then. 

“Okay but you know staying in that lovely charred attire is gonna irritate your lungs, right?” 

Now that the adrenaline is starting to wear off, Giles realises the extent of his exhaustion. Xander’s right, he needs to shed layers but the motivation to move just isn’t there and it’s not like he has anything to change into. He glares at Xander and watches the boy retreat from the kitchen, well it’s a small victory. The moonlight seeps in between the blinds, casting a sombre mood reflecting that of all the current occupants of the house. That same moonlight had framed a truly horrifying image barely five hours previously. Everything always looks more menacing in the dark. 

“How’s he doing?” Cordelia asks as Xander slumps onto the sofa next to her. 

“Hard to say,” Xander sighs shaking his head. Cordelia casts a worried glance at the kitchen and nods pulling Xander into a tight hug. Maybe in a little while she’ll go and talk to him, see if she can do anything that’ll make it easier. 

“It’ll be alright,” She whispers stroking Xander’s arm. “We just need to give him some time.” Neither of them notices the girls coming back from upstairs until they sit on the edge of the coffee table opposite. Buffy has changed into soft pyjamas and fluffy socks while Willow’s eyes are red from crying. 

“He still in there?” Buffy asks gesturing to the kitchen with her shoulder. Cordelia nods sadly. 

“I’ll go talk to him,” Willow suggests getting up. It takes all her mental courage to open the door and not burst into tears the second she sees him. Hunched over with arms folded on the countertop, untouched mug of hot chocolate in front of him and his head bowed, he looks as though he could be sleeping. Were it not for his leg bouncing expelling the remains of the adrenaline, she’d argue that’s a fair assessment. Silently, Willow takes a seat next to him at the breakfast bar offering him quiet companionship to remind him that they’ve not in fact abandoned him. After a few minutes, she bravely turns her head slightly, feeling her eyes start to well up again when she looks at him. She didn’t think that she had anymore tears left to shed. “Are you hurt?” He shakes his head. 

“I’m sorry Willow,” he whispers fiddling with his fingers in his lap. When she sees his bloodshot eyes she almost cries on the spot. Why is he apologising to her? He has nothing to be sorry for. “I know you two were close.” Willow doesn’t notice the tears falling down her face until she’s pressed up against something warm. Giles has wrapped her in his arms whispering reassurances to her. It makes her cry harder. She should be comforting him, not the other way around. 

“I’m sorry too,” Willow mumbles into his jacket. She can smell smoke on him as he holds her. Buffy had explained what had happened at the factory but seeing evidence of it was a totally different thing. She tentatively rests her head on his chest finding the sound of his steady heartbeat equally soothing and distressing. That heart would’ve stopped tonight if what Buffy said was true. No, he’s warm, solid and real right in front of her. Dead people aren’t warm. He’s alive and right now that’s all that matters. She pulls away from him slightly and looks up, noticing the unmistakable hand shaped bruises forming around at his throat. “Do you need something like an ice pack?” Giles runs a hand gently over his jaw. “No for your neck?” What’s wrong with his neck? Oh, Angelus must’ve had a seriously strong grip. 

“No thank you, it’s fine,” he whispers running a finger around his collar. It doesn’t hurt, he can’t feel anything. 

“Promise that you’ll tell me if you’re ever not okay. You don’t have to be the grown up all the time.” 

“I promise.” He pulls her back into his arms and Willow makes her mind up about something, Giles gives good hugs. Even when he’s hurting and everything is going to hell, he gives good hugs. 

*****

The flat doesn’t feel like home anymore. Not that it ever felt like his actual home in England, but it wasn’t his refuge after a hard night of fighting the forces of darkness anymore. Pulling the crime scene tape off the door he cautiously turns the doorknob. After the first step into the threshold, he holds his breath. He’d been so happy when he’d gotten home last night. His eyes drift to the parchment bearing the beautiful script, upstairs and the first wave of nausea hits.

Deciding to waste no time reliving it again, Giles charges to the cupboard to grab as many bin bags as he can to remove all evidence of Angelus’ games. Maybe if he gets rid of it all and burns it then he can pretend it was all a horrific nightmare. It takes hours but Giles has removed every rose petal and candle from his flat. The process of clearing it up had been just as much of a torture as the slow walk up each step, but of course, Angelus would’ve known that. 

It’s now 7:30, he should really be setting off for work, but the smell of smoke is really starting to piss him off. Only issue with showering is that it means getting changed into clean clothes and that means having to go upstairs again. No, he can do this. Shower first, worry about clothes later. 

Once the water had gone cold and he’d scrubbed hard enough at himself to draw blood, Giles finally decided that was quite enough and gotten out of the shower. He’d shaved, combed his hair and brushed his teeth, there was nothing he could do to put it off any longer, he was going to have to go upstairs again. While clearing up, there were no thoughts going through his head other than the task at hand, he didn’t even really remember doing it, so it hadn’t been a problem. 

Tentatively, he puts one foot in front of the other, and begins the climb. Maybe he could ‘slip’ and finally have that fatal head injury. 

The chilling sight of his bed makes his stomach flip over. In record speed he pulls on his tweed armour and inspects himself in the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door. He looks completely knackered with dark bags under his eyes and there’s livid bruises on his face and neck, but he’s looked worse. How can he remotely resemble his normal self now that everything’s changed? Closing the door and turning around, Giles reaches over to the bedside table to collect his watch but is suddenly overcome with the smell of Jenny. The bed had been completely stripped by the Police, but it still smelled of her where her body had been... 

Taking the steps two at a time he hurled himself into the bathroom and violently threw up the contents of his stomach. After taking a long moment to compose himself, Giles straightened up and brushed his teeth again. 

“Fucking pull yourself together Giles,” he spits at his reflection in the vanity mirror. There’s no time for getting emotional, there’s far too much to do. So much that he doesn’t even know where to start. It’s going to be a long day.

*****

“Why is there crime scene tape over Ms Calendar’s door?” Cordelia asks falling into step with the rest of the group. “Did Giles ever say what happened last night?” 

Willow shook her head, “No he just said that he was sorry.” 

“What if it’s unconnected? Harmony said that the Police were called because of a break in,” Xander tries. The others turn to him with eyebrows quirked. “Or not.” They all watched Giles emerge from Snyder’s office and start to head back to the hopefully empty library. Knowing that whatever that little troll had said to him had been the wrong thing but seeing as the Principal was still alive and appeared uninjured, it couldn’t have been too hideous, Xander has a plan. “I bet Giles knows what went down.” 

“He’ll talk when he’s ready,” Buffy snaps. No way was she going to put Giles through the ringer anymore today just so they could get the gossip. 

“Buff you are aware that’s Giles, right? The man who doesn’t talk unless it’s about something really boring or you start the conversation.” He turns to Willow with a goofy smile on his face, waiting for her to agree and laugh with him. Xander really needs to learn when to shut his mouth. Sure, he’s trying to lighten the mood but that was too far. 

“Giles is more than capable of holding intelligent, interesting conversation and he’s allowed to not be feeling chatty after his girlfriend was murdered literally last night so shut the hell up if you’re just gonna make dumb jokes!” She glowered. Xander swallows as if Willows dark eyes bore a hole straight through him and he wiped that grin clean off.

“I’m gonna start keeping watch to make sure that he doesn’t go all twisted Firestarter again,” Buffy announces stepping forward from the group. 

Buffy decided to follow Giles from a distance, though she was certain he was fully aware of her presence, and felt tears pricking her eyes as both staff and students stared at him or muttered as he passed. Giles was not a man who liked to be the centre of attention, monster of the week lectures aside. He’d much rather stay in the shadows and let someone else take the limelight, it was probably conditioning from his Watcher training. Or maybe it was just in his nature. Buffy was never sure and every time she felt like she finally had him figured out he’d do something weird or out of character that made her doubt everything she knew about him. However, she was certain that he was wishing the Hellmouth would open and sic up a demon to swallow him whole right now. 

After Giles had gone home the gang had agreed that he wasn’t to be left alone and that they would take it in turns to ‘hang out’ in the library. Buffy had agreed to take the first shift, but she still didn’t know what to say to him. To be fair, what does one say in this situation? If she did pity and sorrow, she knew it’d make it worse, but she equally didn’t want to be all chipper and peppy like everything was fine because it wasn’t and in truth Buffy was three counties over from fine. 

“Hey,” she called upon entering the library. Giles looks up from the stack of books on the trolley but doesn’t meet her eyes. 

“Buffy, what can I do for you?” Right, Mr Repression guy. Not fabulous but she can deal. 

“Talk to me, that’s what you can do.” 

“Why?”

“Because I’m not okay, you’re not okay, there’s this whole mess that’s all my fault and I’m so sorry- “ 

“Don’t,” he cuts her off then takes a deep breath, exhaling through his nose. “It wasn’t your fault.” Buffy sits at the table with her eyes wide. How can it not be her fault? If she had killed Angel when she had the chance, he wouldn’t have been able to kill Miss Calendar, it’s as simple as that. 

“Giles it is and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t kill him.” So, they were going to have to have this conversation... right now. Fucking brilliant. 

“No Buffy it’s not and I don’t blame you at all. Nor would Jenny. Stop chastising yourself over something that you couldn’t possibly have foreseen. You are not at fault here, put the blame where it belongs.” He hadn’t meant to word it quite like that and while every word of it is true, he still doesn’t want to be having this conversation. He doesn’t want to talk about it, nor need the responsibility of being supportive about the curse being lifted again right now. Sensing defeat, Buffy sighs. 

“I’m sorry for hitting you,” she whispers once she properly sees the dark purple area on his jaw. Willow had mentioned he had some angry looking bruises from last night.

“Yes well...” He absentmindedly scratched at it before turning back to his books. “Don’t you have classes to get to?” 

“My Watcher is more important, and I’ve got a free period, so I figured I’d hang out here.” While Giles appreciates her sentiment, he’d rather she was doing something productive instead of trying to talk to him. He also knows that asking her to leave won’t work either. For whatever reason she’s convinced herself he needs babysitting which is completely ludicrous. He’s a grown man for fuck sake. Picking up a stack of books, Giles heads to the upper level of the library and disappears. 

“Yeah, definitely more important,” Buffy mumbled to herself with sad eyes at his retreating back silently promising to keep an extra watchful eye on him for the time being.


	2. Tales and Tempers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one and quite dialogue heavy because I suck at the descriptive stuff and couldn’t figure out how else to do it. This is also where it starts to hint at getting a bit dark so if you’re not into that, this isn’t for you. Sorry in advance.

The whole gang have joined Buffy in the Library by recess. They’ve decided to keep on as though nothing has happened to maintain normalcy. It seems like the logical thing to do. Both have burning questions for the Watcher about what happened last night, but Willow made Xander promise not to ask unless it was brought up. Most of it sparked from the crime scene tape in Ms Calendar’s classroom. Upon further inspection, the only conclusion that’d been drawn was that whatever had happened, it looked like one hell of a struggle. 

There’s been countless rumours circulating the High School about Miss Calendar’s death from both the students and faculty. Some students seem to think that Giles, the ‘creepy librarian’, killed her for damaging one of his precious books. Others believe it was an accidental killing, a few believe that she just skipped town after faking her death to escape the tweed. The Police were as incompetent as always, so the official statement said that it was a ‘gang related robbery gone wrong’ but everyone knew better, and they knew that Mr Giles had the answers. 

Cordelia had to set the record straight with the ‘mean girls’ that Giles never harmed a hair on Miss Calendar’s head after watching them behaving like idiots when they saw Giles in the halls. It was all ‘ooh did you hear how he murdered Miss Calendar and got away with it?’ every time he walked by. While at the time, Giles had ignored it Cordelia had seen his shaking hands and knew better. She knew he could tolerate the staring and muttering given time, but she also knew that everybody had their limits and that the Watcher was quickly reaching his. 

It hadn’t escaped Giles’ notice that there had actually been a steady stream of students in the library today, especially after he was seen talking to one of the Police officers. Not many, only a brave few entering in the vain hope of finding out exactly what happened to Ms Calendar. Each student had fled after getting a patented glare from the Librarian which amused him to no end. He did get a bit sick of the whispering while he was supervising the Study Hall. Larry had asked him outright if he’s killed Ms Calendar, at which point, Giles had decided that was enough and called Larry outside. Then he’d explained to the boy that he wasn’t a murderer, not that it was any of his business in the first place and done his best to convince Larry that he had no idea what happened. As if he could do anything but fail miserably, Giles had ended the conversation by giving him a particularly aggressive stare ensuring that the matter was closed. All in all, it’d been a trying morning and exhaustion was not helping matters. 

“I’m hitting the vending machine, anyone want anything?” Xander asks clapping his hands together. Willow and Buffy both place their usual orders and the Library descends once more into uncomfortable silence. “Giles? What about you?” 

“Not for me thank you Xander,” comes the response as the Librarian once more disappears into the stacks. Xander sighs and leaves the Library and his friends to keep an eye on the Watcher. He’ll bring the man a chocolate bar that he knows will be eaten instead. 

“I still think we should ask him,” Willow whispers to her best friend. “He knows we wanna know. We know he knows more than he’s saying. It’ll probably do him good to talk about it just a little. You know?” 

“Yeah because that’ll go over well. ‘Hey Giles, by the way we were just wondering if you could tell us everything about your girlfriend getting murdered by my ex honey, the vampire who lost his soul because I slept with him’.” Buffy hisses back. 

“Well obviously not said like that!” 

“How else then? You’re the brainy one!” 

“It’s not about being the brainy one!” 

“You’re supposed to have the answers to stuff!” 

“In an academic sense maybe, but I don’t know everything! It’s not as if I’ve ever done this before.” 

“Neither have I!” 

“You’re the chosen one!”

“What are you two yapping about?” Giles asks sitting opposite them with a hefty book in his hand. 

“Nothing,” they both respond unconvincingly. Giles raises an eyebrow and peers over the top of his glasses at them. 

“Tremendously convincing. If all you’re going to do is snipe at each other, can you please take it elsewhere?” Xander re-joins them with a confused looking Cordelia, arms laden with what appears to be the entire contents of every vending machine on campus. “Xander do you know why these two are bickering?” He catches Willow’s eye and flinches. 

“Um… not sure,” he replies. Giles gets up slamming the book on the table and strides into his office. He knows full well what they’re bickering about, he’s not deaf and they lack the ability to be remotely sneaky. If they want to know that badly, why don’t they just bloody well ask him? It’s not as if he won’t tell them. “What’s going on?” 

“Buffy won’t ask him what happened to Ms Calendar,” Willow explains, keeping her voice quiet. 

“Why should I? I know everything that I need to,” the Slayer retorts. 

“I’ll ask him,” Xander announces ignoring the protests from his friends as he stalked into the office after the Librarian. Maybe he can do this man to man. A few minutes later, they both come out, Xander looking triumphant and Giles armed with a fresh cup of tea. They sit down, Giles at the head of the table with Buffy and Xander on either side. The Scooby meeting is in session. 

“I understand that you all have questions regarding the events of last night?” Giles asks placing his tea down in front of him. The gang nod in response. “It’s perfectly natural and I shall do my best to answer them.” Willow doesn’t look at Buffy for fear of giving her an ‘I-told-you-so’ look. None of them seem to want to say anything. Typical, Giles muses. Eventually, it’s Cordelia who finally speaks up. 

“What actually happened last night?” she asks. Giles takes a deep breath, carefully considering his next words. He doesn’t know every detail, only what he’s been able to piece together from the evidence presented. Nor is he certain how detailed his account should be. Logically, they all deserve to know, and he’ll need to write it in his diaries. In fact, why doesn’t he just do that? He could write it and let them read it. No, this had better be a face to face conversation, Jenny would’ve wanted that.

“Around seven o’clock last night I dropped by Ms Calendar’s classroom after noticing that her light was still on. She’d said that she was working on a special project and then implied that amends with Buffy had been made yesterday morning,” He starts. Might as well give them the full story. He looks to Buffy for confirmation and feels his stomach lurch at her nod of agreement. 

“Yeah,” she whispers with a shaky nod. 

“Jenny said that she had news and asked if she could see me later, so I invited her to come over to my house once she was finished here. I left to go and run some errands, collect the book from Buffy and Willow, do some grocery shopping, that kind of thing. I got home at around half past eight, I’m not entirely sure and I… um… there was a rose on the front door.” 

The entire room is listening intently though at this point not willingly. They can figure out the rest from here. This was a bad idea; they shouldn’t have asked him to tell them. 

“I should’ve known when I realised that the door was unlocked, I-I was certain that I’d locked it that morning,” he closes his eyes and starts fiddling with his fingers, picturing walking into his flat again. “I um… went inside and there were rose petals a-and candles. A record was playing… there was champagne and… a note…” 

“We saw the whole setup Giles, it’s okay you don’t have to tell us,” Buffy says. This was a definite bad idea after all. Giles shakes his head and takes of his glasses, carelessly tossing them onto the table. 

“I went upstairs. As I got nearer the top, I could see her in my bed waiting for me. She looked so beautiful in the moonlight… u-u-until I got closer and saw her neck was at a strange angle…” He scrubs a hand down his face to quickly wipe any trace of moisture from his eyes. He daren’t look at anything other than the table in front of him, focusing on the direction of the wood grain. If he can just get through it once, then he never has to talk about it. It’s not as if the children will ask him again. “As you lot would I say, ‘wigged’ and phoned the Police… Waited for them by the door and they said that I had to go with them. I asked the officer if I could make a phone call and he said not until we got to the station.” He pauses, partially to let them digest this information and partially to allow himself to take a steadying breath. Just a little longer, he reassures himself. “Once at the station I was asked all these questions and I told them as much of the truth that I could. That I’d last seen Jenny a-alive at the school and come home to find her like that. The detective, the one you will have seen this earlier… he accused me of…” 

“What?!” Xander yells interrupting Giles’ chain of thought. 

“I understand where he was coming from, the evidence did make it clear that I had done something. Anyways, I called Buffy to let her know what had happened then called the Watchers Council once it became clear that in the eyes of the Police, I was responsible. The detective, he kept trying to force a confession from me… said he understood how I could’ve l-lost my temper and p-pushed Jenny down the stairs. A short while later the detective came back and told me that I was free to go so I left and went back home.” 

“They actually tried to blame you for Ms Calendar’s murder? You would never hurt her!” 

“I agree with Xander, you never hurt her,” Willow adds shakily. Giles sighs to himself, if only that were true. Of course, he’d never directly harmed her physically, but his actions have led to her being injured. Not to mention all the heartache and emotional pain he knows he caused her. Just more items to add to his list of reasons to feel guilty. 

“In any case, I then decided to hunt Angel down. I wanted to make absolutely sure he knew who was going to kill him. You all know the following events.” The teens take a few minutes to process his words while Giles reaches for his tea with a trembling hand. He’s quite impressed with himself for keeping it together thus far if to be totally honest. There is more to the tale, but that seems to have been enough for now. It’s now that he braves a look at the children, well they’re not really children anymore. As dreaded, there were tears from all of them, Cordelia was doing a fabulous impression of a fish out of water with her mouth agape in sheer disbelief, and once more, Giles wishes he were anywhere but here. If he hadn’t come to Sunnydale, then he would have spared them pain. On a more sinister note, if he had died in the factory last night, perhaps they would be spared more pain, he wonders to himself. Sure, they’d be upset for a short while, but they’d put it down to his own stupidity which would surely be better than this. Don’t be bloody ridiculous, he snaps at himself. That’s bullshit logic and he’s well aware of it, yet he can’t help but wonder. 

“Do you know how she died?” Willow hiccups between silent sobs. Giles wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around the poor girl and comfort her when he catches her eye. If he could spare them all this suffering, he would in a heartbeat. 

“Angel broke her neck Will,” Xander answers thickly as he wipes his own tears away. The thought of such a death made him feel sick. He’d seen some weird shit while at Sunnydale High, but he liked to think he had a pretty strong stomach, after all, he’d coped after Jesse was turned and staked. Maybe it’d be easier is Ms Calendar was turned but then again, they’d have to stake the demon that set up shop in her body so perhaps not. 

“But how? Why was there crime scene tape in the school? It has to be connected.” The redhead is openly sobbing now. 

“The school is a public building therefore Angel can enter uninvited. I believe he found Jenny in her classroom and there was a struggle before he killed her though at present, I am unsure of his motives,” Giles explains clinically. “Perhaps it was because of her connection to Buffy and by extension all of us or because of Jenny’s familial connections. Worse still… perhaps it was simply seizing the opportunity that presented itself and he viewed it as a form of entertainment.” A tear slips down his cheek while he speaks, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the group. Buffy considers reaching out and offering her Watcher some form of physical comfort but decides against it. Other than the fact that it’s still the school day and he is technically a teacher; Giles isn’t physically affectionate. Even with Ms Calendar, he didn’t initiate any PDA in their presence, though the Technopagan had been very open about what he did initiate behind closed doors much to her horror. He probably wouldn’t like it now and shrug her off. Instead she reached out and took Willow’s hand in hers. 

“Angel needs to be destroyed right fucking now!” Xander yells leaping to his feet. 

“What are you gonna do Braveheart?” Cordelia retorts. 

“He needs to be a pile of ashes for what he did to Ms Calendar and to Giles!” 

“Xander, please sit down!” Giles snaps. “Resorting to violence is not going to bring Jenny back, nor will it benefit anybody sat here now.” 

“You can’t seriously want that bastard to live after what he did?!” 

“I equally don’t want any of you joining her!” 

“Buffy could take him!” 

“Buffy’s been through enough without having to kill the demon that wears her lover’s face, I won’t put her through that!” Giles towers over Xander deciding he’s had more than enough of the teen right now. He completely understands, even agrees with the boy but the Watcher part of him is screaming at him to emotionally detach himself from the situation and think rationally. 

“What the hell is wrong with you all? You can’t even kill him now?”

“Xander that’s enough,” Cordelia tries. The last thing they need right now is for this conversation to come to physical blows. 

“The situation is not simple and while I have no desire to let Angel live, it is not my decision to make and it is certainly not my place to force Buffy to take action against her will! I wouldn’t wish for anyone to lose the person that they love!” Giles takes a step back to diffuse the situation, bowing his head to focus on the floor. Shit, he shouldn’t have let his emotions get the better of him. Xander growls and kicks his chair across the library, enjoying the destructive sounds as it crashes across the floor. 

“He snapped Ms Calendar’s neck like a toothpick and you’re just gonna let the guy waltz around town like it’s no big deal?!” The Librarian snaps his gaze back to Xander, that’s the final straw, consequences be damned. Buffy switches to Slayer mode the instant she senses her Watcher’s eyes darken and stance change, the same way it did when he saw Ethan. They’re dealing with Ripper now. 

“Xander just get out!” Buffy orders taking a step closer to her Watcher, ready to grab him if necessary. Giles doesn’t get violent when his emotions get the better of him, not usually anyways. However, after his crusade last night, Buffy isn’t so sure now that her friend has once again demonstrated his inability to keep his big fat mouth shut. Xander glares at her before flinching when he sees the older man turn menacingly towards him. Without a second’s thought he rushes out of the library leaving the door swinging behind him. Willow and Cordelia to go after him leaving Buffy alone with the Librarian. 

“Giles…” she wraps her hand around his wrist in the hope of getting him back with her. “You with me?” Carefully, the Slayer drags a chair behind him so as not to startle him. In this state, as she discovered last night, he’s unpredictable and she doesn’t want him to hurt himself or anyone else. Resting her hands on his shoulders Buffy gently guides her mentor to sit before his muscles give out when the adrenaline wears off. Something in his expression changes. “Giles?” 

“I’m sorry…” he mumbles with the same pleading look Buffy is all too keen to forget. “I should have controlled myself.” 

“Don’t even worry about that. You’re allowed to have feelings, especially now and it’s okay for you to show them instead of being all Mr Bottle-up.” Giles only half listens to Buffy, instead internally berating himself. Now he’s made himself look a complete tit in front of them all by picking a fight with a seventeen-year-old boy. How pathetic is that? He needs to get a grip and shut his emotions down, especially if he can’t behave like a human being instead of an animal. 

“You should make sure that Xander is alright,” he announces switching back to Watcher mode. 

“Xander’s not the one I’m worried about. Besides, he’s got Willow and Cordelia to keep him from attacking any more innocent chairs.” The Watcher snorts at that then scrubs his hands wearily down his face. 

“There’s really no need to be concerned Buffy, I’m perfectly alright,” he explains replacing his glasses on his face. 

“Of course I’m gonna be concerned after last night. Besides, you look like crap.” 

“Ta very much,” he scoffs. 

“You know what I mean,” she huffs. “We can deal with short tempers and tears, we don’t expect you to be okay, I just need you here… with me. With all of us. Doesn’t matter how.” She means every word and knows he’s listening. Say what you will about Giles but he’s a good listener, even when he pretends that he’s not. Whether he will act on her words is another matter entirely.


	3. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a long one, I needed to add quite a bit to it so sorry. I don't know how to warn you about stuff without giving spoilers so just be aware the chapter title is relevant...

It takes Xander a while to calm down, even longer before he can face Giles again. By the end of sixth period, he cautiously steps into the library seeking out the Librarian. It’d taken most of the afternoon, but he’d finally gotten his apology prepared and memorised. Buffy had assured him that the Watcher was no longer angry, nor did he seem particularly upset, so it was apparently safe for him to enter. “Giles?” The man in question tiredly exits his office a moment later, standing with his hands deeply buried in his pockets. “I uh… I just wanted to apologise for the destructathon I pulled earlier and… I’m sorry for upsetting you and making you go all ‘Rippery’.” 

“Xander there is no need for you to apologise,” Giles replies with a shrug. Upon seeing Xander’s face fall, he quickly adds “Though it is of course, appreciated.” The pair stand in an awkward silence, Xander scuffing his shoes on the floor “You made valid arguments, albeit in an insensitive way. I certainly don’t hold it against you, in fact I believe I owe you an apology for letting my temper get the best of me.” Is he insane? Giles wasn’t the one breaking school property, nor the one screaming and shouting. Deciding better than to argue with him, Xander waves his hand dismissively and moves closer to his friend, all awkwardness from the situation having dissipated. 

“It’s no biggie. Besides, I think you’re allowed to not be all stiff upper lip in these situations,” he tried. 

“Pot, kettle. The point I’m trying to make Xander is that you’re a seventeen-year-old boy, of course you’re going to say something profoundly stupid, it’s practically your job description. Especially at a time like this after trauma such as that of last night,” Giles explains. “During our conversation earlier, I was the adult and I failed to act in such way and for that, I am deeply sorry.” Now Xander feels like curling up and crying. It’s in moments like this that he admires the man more than he can say. No adult has ever made Xander feel like he was their equal, nor apologised to him. He doesn’t need an apology nor is he owed one; he doesn’t need anything from Giles except perhaps a hearty slap on the back as a signal that he’s going to be alright. But he’ll live without that for the time being. 

***** 

Angry flames engulfing the walls. Smoke rapidly replacing air. They need to get out. Buffy hurries to her Watcher, why isn’t he waking up? He should be waking up, she’s sure of it. Deciding not to waste time she doesn’t have, Buffy hauls him up and begins dragging him out of danger. Stupid idiot getting himself into a situation like this. What was he thinking? 

Just out of the reach of the flames, she lets go watching his body crash onto the cold concrete. Buffy drops to her knees, shaking his shoulders to rouse him.

“Wake up!” She grabs his wrist, forcing the charred tweed up his arm, fumbling for a pulse. Buffy waits... and waits. Is this even how you do it? Panic fully sets in when she can’t feel anything. Okay, not good. Shaky fingers make their way to his neck. No, still nothing. Shit. What next? Think Buffy think! They were taught this in health class, she knows this, she can do this. 

Breathing, she needs to get him breathing. Mentally apologising for what she’s about to do, Buffy tilted his head back and pinched his nose, administering rescue breaths. That’s how they’d done it on those freaky looking dummies. If you’d told her this morning that she’d be locking lips with her Watcher this evening, Buffy would’ve majorly wigged at the total grossness. But now she’s in the situation realising that it’s not about how old and gross Giles is, it’s about making sure the dumbass starts breathing again. He’d do it for her... 

Okay, what next? Get his heart going. she can do this. She feels out the right place on his chest and starts compressions. How many do you do? On TV it’s like 5 but didn’t Mr Wyatt say 30? That seems a lot. How hard do you have to press? Didn’t they measure it? Damn her stupid brain not being able to remember numbers! Why didn’t she pay more attention? Feel it out Buffy, she thinks as she counts. 

In the class, it was made very clear that every second is vital at this stage, she can vividly remember that. In order to save Giles’ life, she must get his heart pumping blood and make sure he has oxygen. If not... 

No. He’s going to be fine; he’ll wake up in a super overdramatic way then want a cup of tea or a scone. 

After the first set of compressions, she leans in for more rescue breaths making sure to pinch his nose tightly to stop the air escaping. What if it’s hurting him? she worries. Of course it’d be hurting but she’d rather that than the alternative. Even still, she doesn’t want to hurt him. 

“C’mon... wake... up...” she yells between breaths. Locking her hands back together she starts pounding his chest more frantically. There’s nobody around, no pay phones, no sirens, no help. She’s on her own which means it’s up to her. “Don’t you dare leave me! I can’t do this on my own!” 

There’s a loud crack beneath her hands and Buffy leaps back, eyes wide. What the fuck was that? Did she just break his ribs? Wait no, that’s normal… isn’t it? Hang on, she’s the Slayer, what if she used her super strength and crushed his heart? No, don’t think like that. She has to keep going. 

“Breathe, c’mon Giles!” She sobs. “Work with me… You’ve gotta breathe!” 

She’s not sure how long it’s been when she touches her lips to his and flinches. 

He’s cold. 

In the light of the flames Buffy inspects his sooty face. He’s pale, too pale and slightly grey, his lips blue. Fuck, it’s not working! 

“You don’t get to die on me!” He’s not waking up. Why isn’t it working? Did she do it wrong? She screams his name as she continues to try and get his heart beating again. Part of her knows it’s too late, there would’ve been signs of life by now. Sitting back on her haunches, the Slayer pulls him up by the lapels and into her arms, his body flopping into her arms. “Giles I’m scared… don’t leave me on my own!” 

“Buffy!” Comes a distant voice. 

“Giles… I’m sorry!” 

“Buffy!” 

“I promise to be better and train harder, but I can’t without my Watcher,” she howls hiding her face in the crook of his neck. His arms don’t wrap around her like she half-expects them to. How can this have happened? Why didn’t she just get Giles and get out instead of fighting Angel in a burning building? Nudging his arm with her shoulder, Buffy manages to get the dead weight over her own shoulder, his hand dangling limply down her back. It’s not a hug but right now feeling him close to her allows her the delusion that he’s okay. 

“Buffy!” Joyce yells shaking her daughter’s arm. Buffy sits bolt upright in bed frantically looking around to gather her surroundings. Bed, home, Mr Gordo. That means that it was a dream, no… a nightmare. It wasn’t real. 

“Mom…?” She asks softly, unaware of the tears rolling down her face. Seeing the true distress in her child’s eyes, Joyce pulls her into a bear hug and rocks her gently. 

“It’s alright sweetheart, it was just a dream,” she coos smoothing Buffy’s hair down. It takes the Slayer a couple of minutes to calm down enough to realise that she was crying, which must’ve woken her mum up. “Would you like some hot chocolate?... alright then, let’s go.” 

What Buffy really wants is to make sure that Giles is okay. He was earlier when she’d called him. It seemed so real. She swears the smell of smoke and the crackling of the fire were real. She can still smell it. A mug of hot chocolate appears in her line of vision, no marshmallows or whipped cream though. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Joyce joins her at the breakfast bar with her own mug of steaming hot chocolatey goodness and quietly observes. At first, she hadn’t noticed that Buffy was having such a horrible nightmare, perks of being a heavy sleeper, it wasn’t until Buffy screamed that she leapt into action and hurried down the hall. Thankfully, it was only a nightmare, which while unpleasant isn’t real and with the bizarre occurrences in Sunnydale one can never be too sure what to expect. Sipping her drink, Joyce decides to start investigating, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Buffy shakes her head. “I’m sorry for waking you.” 

“Sweetie don’t say that. I’d always rather be woken up than have you upset on your own in the dark.” They go back to silence, the only sound being the distant ticking of the clock in the dining room. “You kept shouting.” At the confused look she receives, Joyce elaborates. “You kept yelling for Giles. Isn’t Mr Giles one of your teachers?” 

Shit. “Yeah he’s the Librarian.” 

“Tall, British, sort of socially challenged in an endearing sort of way?” Ew, don’t say that about Giles. Mind you, Willow’s always had major league moon eyes going on for her Watcher for whatever bizarre reason, which needs to be stopped. 

“That’s Giles.” Her mother looks knowingly at her, conclusions having been drawn already. 

“Why were you dreaming about him? Is there something I should know?” Uh oh, bad conclusions of total ickyness and fifty flavours of wrong. 

“You remember Ms Calendar?” 

“The computer teacher that died yesterday?” 

“Yeah. Well her and Giles were kind of… close and… I heard he found her body.” Might as well try some honesty. If she’s truthful now, then it saves more lies later.

Joyce sighs, dear lord that sounds horrible. That poor man, he always seemed so kind and Buffy spoke very highly of him. As a matter of fact, all the kids did, they look up to him so Xander had said. 

Last night, Joyce had been loath to leave Buffy once they’d found out about that teacher, but the emergency needed to be dealt with straight away and her friends had all agreed to stay with her. It was just all so awful and hit them all very hard. She supposes she understands now. Willow had been absolutely inconsolable. No amount of food or reassurances were able to placate her and that made Joyce feel truly terrible. 

“Oh, Buffy I’m so sorry.” Her daughter nods and offers a weak smile. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“I don’t think so,” Buffy whispers, taking a sip of her surprisingly delicious beverage. In truth there is nothing that her mother can say or do at this point. “I think I’m gonna try and get back to sleep.” 

“Of course, goodnight sweetheart.” 

*****

Sunrise is at 6:34 in the morning. Buffy knows this because she watched it from her window having never been able to settle back to sleep. The way that the dark is replaced with the reassuring light signalling the start of a brand-new day is kind of therapeutic. A new day with the same problems as yesterday. She needs to get to school, needs to make sure that Giles is okay. Maybe her dream was a Slayer warning that something bad had happened to him. No, Giles is fine. He would’ve gone home yesterday evening after training and probably just gone about his evening as normal. Not that anything in his life is remotely normal, past few days being a casing point. 

Today she needs to be the high school student Buffy Summers first and foremost before she can see Giles. There’s a chemistry test today that is supposed to be important to the midterms. Gross. Willow will have memorised the whole damn syllabus, so she’ll get 100% again, she’s physically incapable of getting anything less. At least she can have solidarity with Xander, he won’t have done any revision and probably forgot about the test altogether. Well, at least covalent bonds are a distraction from last night’s terror that still fills her body. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep but there’s a killer headache making itself known in her skull and her nose will not stop being gross and producing an unhealthy amount of snot. Brilliant, now she gets a cold as well? Thank you, higher powers. 

Luckily, Buffy manages to escape first period to see Giles. She took a detour at geometry because who really needs shapes anyway? She can’t get that image of Giles sprawled out on the concrete dead out of her mind. No matter what, it’s there, every time she closes her eyes. She needs to see him, make sure that it’s her slowly slipping grip on reality and not some awful prophecy. Panic rising, she bursts into the library pausing by the table in the centre of the room. 

“Buffy?” The Watcher asks emerging from his office. She moves to stand in front of him, eyes examining him for any sign of injury, of course there are none, well no new ones anyways. The bruises seem to be healing well enough. Instead of being a deep shade of purple, they’ve adopted a slightly yellow tinge. He does look tired though. Maybe he couldn’t sleep either. She tentatively pokes him in the gut, just hard enough to make sure he’s not a figment of her imagination. “Um… what are you doing?” 

“Making sure you’re real,” she replies putting her hand on his chest right where her hands had been fighting to keep him alive. Except they hadn’t, not really. Warm, he’s warm and breathing and doesn’t smell of burning building. He smells of… Giles. Always a reassuring smell. Unexplainable but recognisable, he smells like tea and old books but also of whatever slightly floral fabric softener he does his washing with and the shower gel he uses. He smells good, alive. That’s all that matters right now. 

“Well I was the last time I checked,” he responds with a chuckle. 

She pulls him into a hug, school proprieties be damned. After a moment where his brain seems to catch up, he cautiously wraps his arms around her and that’s all it takes for the dam to burst and the tears to start falling. He’s really here, it wasn’t real. It was a nightmare. “I-I-I thought I’d lost you!” 

“Buffy, you’re not making any sense,” he explains softly trying to calm her. He can’t work out if she’s referring to what happened the other night or not. Perhaps it’s something different? When she tries to speak, all that comes out is sobs and hiccoughs, how gross. But right now, all that matters is that he wrapped his arms around her and that he’s alive, it’s enough to slow her tears to an eventual halt. She pulls back, releasing the death grip on her Watcher and steps back. Well that was embarrassing. He offers her his handkerchief which she takes with a small smile. Dead Giles wouldn’t have done that. No stop thinking that, he's very much alive and attempting to crack jokes. At least her current state of exhaustion meant that she didn’t have the energy to put mascara on to ruin. It’s the Little things in life that make all the difference sometimes. 

After allowing her to compose herself once more, Giles guides Buffy into his office and onto the armchair, closing the door behind them. It’ll be more comfortable and private in here on the off chance that there is a student lurking in the stacks. 

“What was that all about?” He asks with a slight frown. Buffy doesn’t answer straight away. How can she explain this without sounding like a lunatic? Besides, does he even really need to know? “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise not to get the uh... ‘wiggins’.” 

And so, Buffy explains her nightmare. How she’d gotten to the factory, fought Angel, dragged Giles out and he wasn’t breathing. About trying to save him but knowing it was too late. Every little detail. All the while, Giles removes his glasses and listens intently with his trademark concentration face. It’s slightly unnerving thinking that she’d been able to visualise such gruesome images of him when she goes into such detail, but she’s unfortunately used to gruesome. Once the lengthy story is told in high definition detail, Buffy cautiously looks up at her mentor. He must think she’s on a one-way train to crazy town. Instead he clears his throat and cleans his glasses. And obviously the only way to cope with this for him is to put the kettle on. The absurdity of it makes the Slayer want to laugh. 

“Well… that sounds… horrifying,” he replaces his glasses on his face. “The important part is that you’re alright.” 

“Giles it was so real, I thought I’d killed you,” she whispers eyeing the floor, tears welling up again. 

“Never,” he soothes resting his hand gently on her shoulder. “Hey now, none of that. Everybody’s okay and it wasn’t real, despite what it felt like.” He gets up to start the process of making tea for them both, swearing that the soothing properties of it will help. One of the many things Buffy loves about her Watcher is his ability to make her truly believe that everything will be okay. There’s just something about him which she can’t quite place that makes her feel like she can do anything, and it’s brilliant. He hands her his favourite green mug filled with delicious British comfort food. Well not food, but the rate Giles consumes it, it may as well be. 

“It just felt so real.” 

“I know but it wasn’t. That didn’t happen, you saved me from my own stupidity.” While he’s not at all in the headspace to have any form of conversation with another living being, yet a.one about that, he can’t help but try to make his Slayer feel better. Her nightmare does sound awful, but not prophetic so there’s no need to make a mountain out of a molehill. It must’ve really unnerved her, she looks as exhausted as he feels. “I can’t wave a magic wand and make it better, but I can promise you that it wasn’t real. That I’m not dead and you’ve never failed me.” 

That seems to be enough for Buffy, she sends a beaming smile his way and takes a sip of the tea. See, that’s all she needed. A dose of Giles being excessively nice to her. 

“Thanks, you know… just… thank you,” she mumbles catching his eye. The corner of his mouth quickly turns upward slightly in a sort of smile. Perhaps he is wigged. She’d be wigged if he were to put on that performance for her. God, she put on the whole Buffy show at nine in the fucking morning when the man looks like absolute hell! How selfish is that! He’s got so much to worry about right now without her nightmares being added to the mix. No, she needs to be a good Slayer right now, give him some space, do her homework. Time to change the subject. “I think I’m gonna patrol tonight, I’ve let it slide the last couple of days.”

“Are you sure? Pardon my phrasing, but you look shattered,” he frowns. 

“Back at ya. I think it’ll be good to get out and have a good slay.”

“Be careful.” 

“I’ll only do a small sweep; I think I’m coming down with something.” 

“Yes, there is a flu bug going around.” The sound of the bell interrupts her response. 

“Crap! I gotta get to Chem class, we’ve got a test. See you later!” She hurries out of the library leaving the door swinging in her wake. Giles smiles, that’s his Slayer. 

***** 

“She is going to be fine,” Dr Wilkinson reassures the group. It takes a moment for her words to be heard smiling slightly at the collective sigh of relief. Joyce’s muttered thanks to whatever deities exist that her daughter will be alright seems to be ignored luckily. 

“Good, good,” Xander agrees wringing his hands together. He casts a nervous glance at the Watcher for reassurance. “That’s good.” 

“I want to keep her in for a few days though,” Dr Wilkinson continues. “She still has some healing to do.” 

A while later the group lingers outside Buffy’s room watching her sleep the sleep of the very sick. But for however bad it looks; Joyce manages to remind herself that she’s going to be okay and that’s all that matters. 

“I should go call her father,” Joyce excuses herself from the group. 

“A-and I think there’s a phone at the uh…” Giles stammers taking his leave too. Right now, there’s nothing he can do for any of them so he may as well get out of the way. He trails after Joyce gesturing to the Nurses Station where sure enough, there is a phone. 

“Thank you for coming,” Joyce smiles at him. What is it with Americans and their incessant need to communicate verbally the entire bloody time? “I-I really appreciate the way you look out for her. All of you.” 

“Well, we’re uh, w-we’re very fond of her,” Giles smiles back. He points awkwardly to the phone on the desk. “The uh… the telephone.” Another awkward smile and that’s enough socialising for one day. Not that he dislikes Joyce in the slightest, in all honesty he doesn’t know her well enough to have formed an opinion either way, but it’s been a trying evening. 

“I-I-I hope I’m not out of line,” Joyce starts raising a hand to keep him in place. “But… I uh, just wanted to say how sorry I am… about that teacher, Ms Calendar. Buffy said you were close.” 

“Yes w-well,” Giles swallows thickly trying his best to remove his dumbfounded expression. Buffy would naturally tell her mother about Jenny, of course she would. What else was said? Does she know the truth about what happened? “Thank you.” 

“Buffy’s been so down since it happened,” Joyce continues. “I mean, she never gets sick.” Giles can feel panic start to stab its claws into his chest. He tries to take a deep breath to alleviate the pressure, with no success. Time to get out of here, he reminds himself and starts scuffing his feet on the floor. He doesn’t want to appear rude to Joyce, especially since she clearly needs an adult to provide some form of comfort after how much of a horrendous experience this must be for her. He just can’t be that adult right now. 

“Well I’m sure she’ll be… uh… she’ll be fine.” 

“I’m sorry, I babble when I’m nervous. I just wanted to…” she sighs. “Well, if you need anything…” 

“Thank you…” The air seems to be getting thicker. Deep breath Rupert, he buries his hands in his pockets, bunching his fists tightly around the fabric. One foot in front of the other, Giles quickly heads out of this conversation, taking long strides towards the stairs deciding that the walk will do him good.

Joyce turns to the phone but watches him leave sadly, poor man. She deeply hopes that he has someone to talk to about it, nobody should have to go through something so awful alone. 

***** 

“So, what have I missed?” Buffy asks the group as Xander hands her a soda. It’s been a few days since the whole flu-from-hell-but-not-literally, most of that time had been spent at home being doted on by her mother. While fun at first, it quickly grew tiresome and Buffy now found herself excited to go  
back to school. And of course, what better way to celebrate than by a trip to the Bronze tonight? 

“Eh, not a lot. All’s quiet in Hellmouth Central,” he replies. 

“A cynic might say too quiet,” Willow adds with a smile as they wander the halls on their way to homeroom. 

“Ah Miss Summers,” Principal Snyder exclaims, approaching the group from the other end of the corridor. “I see that you’re back to cause more chaos.” 

“I’m feeling much better Principal Snyder, thanks for asking,” Buffy retorts with a smirk. 

“My office,” he gestures for her to start moving and she throws a confused look over her shoulder to her equally bemused friends. What the hell has this little troll got planned for her now? Once inside the office, Buffy sits opposite the Principal and waits, this’ll be good. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you with your ‘illness’ but I feel the need to remind you of something.” 

“You do?” Buffy frowns. Why does she have to talk to Principal coffee breath? Like seriously, someone give this man a breath mint. He nods with an ominous smirk. 

“You’re a troublemaker Summers, we both know that all the weird things that happen here are connected to you,” he begins. Oh great, she’s going to be blamed for something that happened in her absence because he needs a scapegoat. “Weird things have been happening a lot over the past week, would you agree?” 

“Yeah but I haven’t been here Principal Snyder so whatever it was, it can’t have been me,” Buffy counters calmly. There’s no use getting suspended for answering back. 

“See I have a working hypothesis about you Summers, I believe you’re involved with all the gang activity in Sunnydale.” Well, he’s not totally wrong if ‘gang’ is the official word for Vampires. “As I’m sure you already know, Miss Calendar was murdered earlier this week. The Police seem to think that it was a ‘gang robbery gone wrong’. Which made me think, I know a juvenile delinquent who has most likely got connections to the types of people that would do something so… morally wrong.” Did he seriously just say that? He thinks she killed Miss Calendar! That absolute fucking bastard. Count to ten Buffy, Slayers can’t kill humans. 

“No way! Principal Snyder, I had nothing to do with what happened to Miss Calendar and you already know that!” Buffy pleads eyes wide. 

“I’m not saying you were directly involved. No, it’s simpler than that. You know who did it, and that it was a waste of space Librarian who creeps me out, despite what the Police say. Between you and me, that tweed-clad creature is mentally unhinged on a good day so it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise. The point is, I don’t want you causing any more trouble in my School. If you so much as sneeze without permission, I will have you suspended permanently, do you understand?”

Buffy nods, not trusting herself to give a verbal answer. Wait until Willow and Xander hear about this, dear god is there going to be a bitch fest later. “Good. Now get going to your classes. I’ll be watching you, your friends and that murderous monster of a Librarian closely Summers.” 

Without another word, Buffy gets up and all but sprints out of the office and straight to the bathroom, ignoring the stares and mutterings of her fellow students as she goes. Shaking with rage, she starts pacing. First of all, how dare that little shit instantly turns to her as a ‘juvenile delinquent’ and suggest that she had any idea of what happened to Miss Calendar. The fact that she does know exactly what happened is beside the point. Secondly, nobody shit talks her Watcher! How can any human being be such a twat, never mind downright heartless considering the situation. While Buffy was never Miss Calendar’s biggest fan, she certainly didn’t deserve what happened to her, and worse still that vermin like Snyder still walks the earth using up all the precious oxygen. Yeah, she’s going to have to sick a vampire on the Principal. 

***** 

Buffy skipped the Bronze trip in favour of taking out her anger at Snyder on the vampire population of Sunnydale. Willow had been absolutely seething at the assumption, even more angry at the fact that Snyder didn’t seem to care about the fact that Miss Calendar was dead but more about making sure that the resident troublemaker was toeing the line. She’d promised to write a particularly vile email to the Principal and School Board and complain. Xander on the other hand hadn’t been at all surprised that Snyder would do something as nonsensical as accusing Buffy of conspiracy to murder. He’d explained that in that troll’s warped brain it probably forms a coherent thought and to take no notice of it. 

It was at that point that Buffy had decided not to inform them of the downright fucking nasty things Snyder had said about Giles. Gross unprofessionalism aside, it was cruel, and she didn’t want Giles to find out about what else had happened. In fact, she’d sworn the others to secrecy, which they’d thankfully agreed to after seeing the reaction to Xander’s little outburst the other day. It had really riled her up and she knew it would with the others too. Giles himself probably wouldn’t care, he doesn’t care what Snyder says in faculty meetings, as if he’d give a shit about what that gremlin says about him. He’d be pissed about the fact that it’d been said to Buffy and what was insinuated instead of the content of the insults. But then again, she can’t be totally sure. If that had been said about her to someone else, she’d be hurt. Not massively but a little. 

Deciding to focus on her patrol, Buffy spots a shady looking guy up by one of the crypts. Definitely a vampire, her Slayer senses inform her. Edging closer with her stake in hand, Buffy maps out her strategy. If she’s quick she can get it in the back before it even senses her. 

A glint of steel stops her in her tracks. That looks like a sword. Make that two. Maybe a quick stake and go won’t work here. Something about this vampire is screaming at her instincts to run. Since when did she run from a vampire? 

“Hey ugly!” She yells, adrenaline pumping through her veins when it whips around to face her. Yikes, those are some swords, all jagged and lethal looking. Whoever this guy is, he’s clearly from out of town. With a growl, it charges at her, blades raised and poised to kill. 

Buffy ducks the attack and begins her pummelling. Jeez, this vamp ate his greens, he’s really strong. Within seconds, it disarms the Slayer of her stake and aims a killing blow. Instincts taking over, Buffy vaults over the vamp’s shoulders, narrowly avoiding it’s weapons and kicks it squarely in the back. Watching it stumble gives her a gleeful sensation until it launches the next attack landing a heavy boot in her face. 

By the time the stars are gone from her vision, the vampire is gone. It’s as if the thing vanished into thin air. Great. Brushing herself off, Buffy awkwardly clambers to her feet. At least there was nobody here to witness that embarrassing demonstration of getting her ass kicked. She’s never seen a vamp like that before, it was way stronger than it should’ve been and those swords. Maybe there’s a new big bad in town and honestly, that’s just one thing too much right now. Can’t the forces of darkness just take a couple of days off? Is that too much to ask? With a sigh she resigns to tell Giles once she gets home, he’ll figure out what’s going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, just need to say a few things before I let you go. Was I up all night rewriting this chapter because I'm indecisive? Yes, but the next 3 are 100% ready to go, they have been for months so they shall be posted later this week (Wednesday/Thursday maybe) to give me time to do Uni stuff and finish reviewing Chapter 7 which is actually killing me. Also, the bit with Snyder I know seems odd but it's relevant for later on so it has to be there. 
> 
> Also I wanted to say a massive THANK YOU to everyone who has not only read it but also enjoyed it etc, it honestly makes my day and all the sleepless nights worth it, I love you all <3


	4. Right Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's currently 4:03am, I'm an insomniac plus I had a strange day so here's Chapter 4. Yes, it's a bit shorter than the last one (really sorry, please don't hate me) but two uploads in as many days! As always, any mistakes are my own incompetence and I own nothing. 
> 
> Again, a massive thanks for all the support and love you folks are showing this weird self-indulgent story, it honestly means the world to me.

“There is nothing in this book that’s worth knowing,” Xander huffs slamming the ancient text shut. “Why is the big guy getting so worked up? There’s nothing about an impending disaster.” 

“Yeah but we want it to stay that way,” Buffy quips barely looking up from her own hefty book. “The vamp that got away last night was toting some serious weaponry and I wanna know why.” 

“It’s past midnight, I should really get going or I’m gonna be Little Miss Cranky tomorrow,” Willow grumbles as she shuts the computer down. “I can’t even see words anymore.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Xander offers. The ‘just in case’ doesn’t need saying, they get the idea. The boy glances into the office where the Watcher has stationed himself. “Surely he should get some shut eye too.” 

“I got it, make sure you’re both careful.” The pair nod their assent and head out with a brief goodbye to the Librarian, not that it was remotely acknowledged. He was too engrossed in research, as always. 

“Will and Xander have headed home, I think maybe we should call it a night,” Buffy announces from the office doorway. The Librarian ignores her. Time for a different tactic. “I’m kinda beat.” That gets his attention. 

“I’ll drive you home,” Giles declares after a moment without looking up from his current book. “Give me a few minutes to finish this and then we’ll go.” He knows better than to push it. If he takes her home, he can guarantee she’ll be safe then and he can come back and keep researching. The Slayer agrees and proceeds to straighten up the Library. She doesn’t want to put the books back on the shelves, primarily because when they all resume research in the morning, she doesn’t want to re-read the same books again. But also because Giles gets grumpy if books aren’t shelved correctly. Maybe if they were put on the trolley, the gang would know where to start tomorrow? That seems logical. 

It’s roughly half an hour later that Giles emerges from the office, car keys in hand. Buffy stops her tidying, folding her arms with a scowl. 

“Uh-uh Mister. Get your stuff, you’re going home too.” 

“Buffy- “ 

“You of all people should know that you can’t stay here on your own at night. Especially now. If you don’t get your ass in gear and get outta here right now, I will drag you home kicking and screaming.” 

“I will be perfectly fine, now please, let’s go.” 

“I bet Miss Calendar thought she was going to be perfectly fine too.” Low blow considering the funeral hasn’t even been held yet. Giles paled in an instant. He knows she’s right, but he can’t face being back in that flat. He does have some potentially useful texts at home that need a thorough examining.

Wordlessly, he stomps back to gather his coat and briefcase switching the lights of as he goes. Yes, he’s being petulant by throwing a strop, but he’s sick of being the grown up all the time. He’s also equally sick of the children treating him like he’s made of glass. That very much needs to stop. 

Buffy smiles at her small victory despite the guilt for bringing up Miss Calendar, none of the gang have really talked about her at all since it happened. Of course, Giles is dealing with it in the complete ‘stiff upper lip’ British way since his revenge plan gone awry, which is starting to alarm her. How can he just brush it all under the carpet? That’s a discussion for another day but right now, he needs to get it into his surprisingly thick skull that the school is a public building which, therefore, isn’t safe from Angelus, recent events being the only evidence needed. It’s almost as if he doesn’t care anymore and wants Angelus to find him. That whole thought process is too terrifying to contemplate. 

Mercifully, Giles stands before her wearing his coat, briefcase in hand. He spreads his arms with a glare at the Slayer awaiting inspection. On a normal day, these theatrical displays when one of them is being particularly bossy towards him are funny, they all get a kick out of it, but when Buffy looks into his eyes, she’s not laughing. He’s probably only doing it to try and make her laugh or reassure her that he’s fine but if anything, it’s having the exact opposite effect. 

“Good, let’s go,” She chirps hopping off the table and leading the way out of the library towards the car park. As Giles drives the silent streets of Sunnydale, Buffy can’t help but think about the look on his face when he finally came out of his office. It was a combination of so many different things, usually it’s simply annoyance at being bossed around by a child. This time when she looked at him, she saw a lost soul. It was as if he were cast adrift and didn’t know how to come back. Didn’t know or didn’t want to. The car stops and Buffy realises that she’s home, if she were able to justify it with her mother, she’d stay with him. But since Miss Calendar’s death, her mum has been a little more hesitant about letting her roam the streets after dark. Tonight was another round robin and that meant that her mother would be asleep by the time she sneaks into her room. 

“Thanks,” She whispers grabbing her bag from the backseat. She pauses for a moment before continuing. “I’m not doing this for my own good Giles, I don’t want you to get  
hurt.” 

“I know,” Giles whispers. He knows she’s right of course she is, but he doesn’t care anymore.

“Promise you’ll go home?” The Watcher sighs and nods. Buffy doesn’t believe that for a second. “Giles look at me… promise me you won’t go back to the library tonight.” Giles looks his Slayer in the eye and upon seeing the tears in hers realises he can’t deny her anything right now. 

“You have my word.” He offers a small smile in the hope of comforting her. Buffy wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him to her in a quick embrace, an increasingly common occurrence. 

“See you tomorrow.” Buffy watches as he drives off helplessly. The general is falling and it’s time to rally the troops.

******

The next day, Buffy ensures the entire Scooby gang sans Giles is sat in Miss Calendar’s classroom for a meeting. The subject: how to help Giles deal. Then the question before the court, have we noticed any changes in the big guy that are raising alarm bells? The meeting starts with Buffy filling the others in on what happened last night.

Xander sighs, “It’s barely been a week. He’s grieving, cut the big guy some slack.” 

“We have been,” Buffy counters.

“I got a not so radical idea,” Oz suggests. “Why don’t we keep closer tabs on him for a couple days and see if we need to go to panic stations.” 

“G-Man doesn’t like us hovering,” Xander replies. 

“Then maybe just watch to see how close we are to hitting the red zone?”

“Ooh Buffy could take him on patrol, and we can make him proper English tea!” Willow exclaims. There’s a general murmur of agreement and they look to Buffy. She must admit, it’s a better idea than her non-existent one, except for the making tea part. 

“Don’t wanna spoil the mood here but what if you have a rendezvous with Angel on patrol?” Xander asks. 

“I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” Buffy answers coldly. “Okay, you guys are on beverage duty. I’ll handle the field trip.” 

Operation Red-Zone is now in progress. 

*****

“You want me to patrol with you tonight?” Giles asks with a frown. Not twenty-four hours ago she was all but forcing him to stay away from all danger, talk about taking a U-turn.

“Research was a total bust last night and maybe seeing what kind of weapons it was swinging might help narrow it down. You’d be able to work it out in seconds,” Buffy explains. It took her rehearsing that in the bathroom mirror a couple hundred times to make it sound convincing. 

“I suppose you make a valid point,” Giles agrees. And the Oscar goes to Buffy Summers. 

“You don’t have to come, if you’d rather hit the books again, I’ll send out the bat signal to assemble the gang.” 

“No, research did indeed get us nowhere last night, your plan isn’t without merit.” Buffy smiles. 

“Cool, we’ll go after training.” The Watcher grumbles in agreement picking up another book. Well that went better than she’d expected. 

Before she knew it, Buffy was strolling through one of the many cemeteries of Sunnydale, her Watcher at her side. They’d decided to do a sweep of the outer boneyards tonight as Buffy didn’t go that far every day. She tried to patrol there once a week but in truth, the forest always gave her a serious case of the wiggins, so she’d give it a miss. Plus, Giles having a car helped make it considerably easier to get home. Not that that was the only reason for bringing him along on patrols. 

“So, the forest unnerves you?” Giles asks sensing Buffy’s restlessness. “You are aware that the cemetery isn’t actually in the forest?” 

“Duh I know that. It’s just with all the trees and mother nature I can’t see as well. It’s no big,” she replies. 

“Your visibility is poorer because of the terrain? Perhaps more honing of your other senses will allow you to compensate.” Of course, ever the Watcher. 

“Giles can you get your head out of training mode for more than thirty seconds? It’s not important.” 

“The more thorough your training, the better your chance of being a successful Slayer. Unless of course, you’d rather be killed by vampires?” Giles spits with an angry scowl. “Because that’s what will happen. If you aren’t totally prepared for any situation you must be able to rely on your instincts and senses to keep you alive. If you can’t, you’ll certainly be six feet under before your eighteenth birthday.” 

Annoyingly, she knows he’s got a point, but that little outburst alone is cause for concern. Where the fuck did that come from? He NEVER talks about the prospect of her untimely demise and if they do, it’s usually with solemn expressions and a serious need for comfort food, generally in the form of ice cream. Giles is always externally pretty chill about most things, but not that. Never that. With other topics, he always takes a moment or two to explain something properly, even if it’s a somewhat complicated explanation and he’s reached the end of his tether. That was not something he’d thought through before saying. Sure, he gets worked up now and again, but he never, EVER gets wound up like that to the point where he reaches Cordelia’s level of tactlessness, especially over a throwaway comment. She stops walking and stares at him with wide eyes. “You really think I won’t be alive to turn eighteen?” 

“Buffy, I’m doing nothing but stating facts.”

“You never normally turn into Cordelia to do that!” Buffy can feel her own temper rising. God what is going on with him today?

“Would you rather I lied?”

“I’d rather you were Giles!”

“What are you talking about Buffy?” Buffy groans and puts her hands on her hips. 

“You’re acting all cool-calculated Watcher guy! My Giles wouldn’t say anything like that, especially in such a cruel way.” 

He takes a deep breath and starts counting to ten in his head. What the hell is wrong with him? How the fuck did he get so worked up over literally nothing? And since when did he really think that about his Slayer? “I’m sorry Buffy. I didn’t mean to upset you or make you angry. I apologise for my cruel words.” 

“Duck!” 

“What?” 

“Duck!” Buffy shoves him out of the way, lunging at the vampire behind him before it has a chance to attack. While Buffy is distracted with vamp one, a second snarl comes from behind her. “Giles!” 

“On it!” Giles pulls the stake from his pocket and turns to face the newcomer. This one must be the one that Buffy had been trying to explain to them. The vampire in question was wearing an all-black tunic which struck Giles as strange, since when did vampires wear tunics? More alarmingly, it was also wielding two jagged swords, twirling them as it prepared to strike, moonlight bouncing off the polished metal. 

Buffy dusts her vampire and whips around to help her Watcher. The vampire snarls again and swings one of the swords at her. If it weren’t for Slayer reflexes, Buffy would have no head which really wouldn’t be her finest fashion moment. She makes quick work of disarming the vampire of it’s scary looking swords, tossing one to Giles knowing it’s his weapon of choice. 

“You think you can defeat me Slayer!” The vampire taunts. “I will slice you open and drink you dry!” It takes all of her reserves not to burst out laughing at the ridiculous threats. Full marks for effort though. 

Out of nowhere Giles charges at the vampire with his new weapon raised but creature is quicker and jumps out of the way before bolting into the darkness. Buffy, still cringing at the oh so scary threats, barely registered that the vamp had given chase. Or that Giles, like the complete idiot he was, had gone hot on its heels. Wasting no more time, she took off after them, quickly catching up. 

It’s no secret that vamp strength also increased speed, but it was like this one had wished to be the Flash. It was fucking quick. She wasn’t sure exactly how far they’d been chasing it when she realised Giles was seriously lagging, but she guessed it’d been far enough to call it quits. There’s no point chasing one vampire on speed across Sunnydale. Eventually Giles catches up to her and drops the sword. 

“Where’d...it... go?” He gasps. 

“It got away. Are you okay?” She quickly checks him over, calming down after seeing no blood or bruises. Giles doubles over, leaning awkwardly against the tree behind him trying to get his lungs to stop burning and his heart to slow down. Or stop. At this point he doesn’t have a preference. Buffy moves next to him, rubbing a hand down his arm to soothe her nerves. It’d been a hell of a sprint, even by her standards, but it couldn’t have been that far.

In all honesty, she’s impressed that he even vaguely managed to keep up. They often went running as part of training and Buffy knew that Giles was in pretty good shape for someone that decrepit, he’d have to be to train her, but she’d genuinely thought he’d just give up and stop. A memory of a particular training session whereby Buffy had run as fast as she can springs to mind. Poor guy was flat on his back, covered in grass and coughing his lungs up after just a few minutes while Buffy was desperately trying not to laugh. 

“How’re you doing there Giles?” She smirks once his mildly alarming wheezing stops. For a few fleeting moments there was a genuine concern that he may pass out. 

“Never better,” Giles pants with a wave of his hand, earning a smirk from his charge. 

“Well when you’ve finished being overdramatic, how about we go back to the Library with these funky lookin’ ninja swords?”

“I… need a new… cardiovascular system.” 

“Let me just grab a spare from my non-existent pockets.” Giles regained his usual posture and brushed himself down. Buffy handed him a sword and they headed off back. 

Walking in silence, Buffy feels strangely calm for the first time in a long while. Chasing a vamp isn’t her idea of fun, but the casual snarking with Giles was fun. The crappy battle punning was legendary, but only really if there was someone to share them with, the piles of dust are a tough crowd. Of course, to a normal person that’d be insane but it’s the little moments like this that she’s on about. By no means was it the proper bantering like she’s used to, but it was the closest she’s gotten to hearing that weird but amusing British sense of humour. Maybe Willow was right in that going patrolling will cheer them both up a bit.


	5. Tact

“Any luck on the black knight hunting?” Buffy asks in the Library a couple of days later. “Giles?” 

“Hmm?” He grunts as if only just registering her presence. 

“Good morning to you too.” 

“Sorry, uhm… not a lot I’m afraid. So far all we know is our runner the other night could belong to a cult dating back to the medieval period, but I can’t determine exactly which one or a purpose for being here.” Willow sits in front of the computer. 

“Okay so research party again after school?” She asks with a smile. Giles nods stiffly and resumes his reading without another word. 

“Aren’t we Bronze bound tonight?” Cordelia asks. It’ll be nice for them all to have a night off research and Giles looks like he could use a bit of extra sleep. As if reading her mind, the Librarian clears his throat. 

“The potential presence of an ancient vampire cult in Sunnydale does fill me with a sense of dread. I think it’d be prudent to continue research-” Xander rolls his eyes and groans cutting off Giles mid-sentence. All they’ve been doing recently is research into this vampire, who’s probably just here on vacation. 

“C’mon Giles, it’s not like anyone’s gonna die if you decide to clock off early for once,” he huffs. 

“Xander!” Cordelia smacks his arm. Now is not the time to start having this debate. 

“What? I just want a night off from the forces of evil!” 

“The forces of evil don’t take a night off from killing people!” 

“Yeah? Well maybe Giles should!” Xander turns to his girlfriend with a glare ready to leap into an argument before he follows her gaze, suddenly feeling sick. Shit, he didn’t mean it like that. In fact, he didn’t mean that at all. The teens turn and watch Giles carefully, as if he were a volcano about to explode. The man in question hasn’t looked up from the book in his lap. Nor has he moved a millimetre, or even taken a breath. 

Casting a quick glance to the others and a nod to the door, Willow inches closer to the Watcher while Buffy herds Xander and Cordelia out of the library as fast as their legs can carry them. She marches them out and to the nearest empty classroom she can find before allowing Cordelia to rain hell down upon her boyfriend. 

“What the fuck Xander!” She shouts. 

“What? I didn’t mean... I just wanted him to take a night off is all,” Xander explains. Typical that he’d say something so stupid. 

“Xander don’t you see that Giles blames himself for Ms Calendar’s death because if he’d decided to stay in the library instead of having an early night, he could’ve saved her?” Cordelia spits. She’s not nearly half as unobservant as they think she is. “How can you be so insensitive?!” Xander really feels like crap now. He hadn’t thought of that at all and in hindsight, that was literally the dumbest thing he could’ve said.

Back in the Library, Willow keeps her eyes firmly fixed on Giles. If an outsider were to choose this moment to enter the Sunnydale High library, they would think nothing of seeing the way that the Librarian sat at the table reading, but Willow is no outsider. She can’t decide if he’s going to cry, hit something or throw up. He probably doesn’t know either. Maybe she should go and hide in the stacks so he can have some privacy? While she absolutely adores Xander, that was not one of his finest moments. 

“Giles?” She asks tentatively starting towards him. He doesn’t move but she can see his jaw clench. “Giles?” 

“Willow?” he asks. He’s fine. Xander never thinks before speaking, this is no surprise or strange occurrence and in truth, he hadn’t been paying much attention. If he says it to her, perhaps he can trick himself into believing it. 

Of all the Scoobies, Willow has always been able to read Giles like one of his books and she’s not convinced that he’s being entirely truthful to her. He’d promised to tell her if he wasn’t okay and right now, he looked five towns over from okay. 

“Don’t you have to be somewhere?” Giles mumbles cleaning his glasses. 

“Not for a little while,” She replies taking a step closer. “Can I make you tea?” With a small approving nod from Giles, Willow heads into his office to put the kettle on. She’s the only one who is remotely trusted to go near his teapot without wrecking everything. She’d surprised him with a cup of tea for his birthday last year which was worth it for the confused look on his face. He’d been so genuinely touched that she’d taken the time to do that simple act for him she’d wondered if he was going to explode. Then they’d sat for a while just talking. About nothing and everything all at the same time. When Giles wasn’t being all stuffy librarian, or in deep research mode, he was rather pleasant company. They both had things in common, besides Buffy, and he would always make time to listen to whatever she had to say and treat her as an equal. 

Over the past year, the teens had all grown to see him in a different light and as a friend/mentor instead of boring Mr Info-dump. Willow greatly valued his friendship and knew it was built on a mutual respect and understanding of one another. She knew when he was grumpy because he’d turn the pages of books more forcefully or how when he was happy, he’d stand slightly taller. Same way that he knew that she was upset because she’d choose to hit the books before firing up the computer, preferring to have something to hold onto. More than once, she’d found chocolate bars conveniently stashed with books, he’d suggested that she read. Giles always knew just what to do and when to do it. He didn’t need to say anything, didn’t want any explanation. 

Sometimes if everything just got a bit much Willow would seek him out and just sit in the library. He’d remain impassive until she wanted him to say something. Mostly, he’d continue going on about his day, other times he’d just sit nearby with a book and a cup of tea, one having made its way over to her as well, and it was enough. Of course, where Giles goes, tea follows. 

“Here ya go,” Willow announces gently depositing his favourite green mug on the table in front of him. He thanks her and takes a sip with a smile. Good, that means that she’d gotten it perfect. They continue to sit in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before Willow’s mind starts nagging her to ask, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look kinda poopy.” 

She watches the cogs go in his brain. He’s thinking too hard about what to say which is answer enough. Nasty thoughts are irrelevant, he’s sat in front of her looking a little worse for wear but he’s in one piece... more or less. 

“I may have exaggerated. Admittedly, I’m not feeling fine,” he concedes. “But I am confident that I am alright.” Of that he’s sure. He knows Willow is watching him keenly, she always was the most observant of the group. She’s also been keeping an extra eye on him since... it’d happened. It was a bit irritating at times, but he knew all of the children needed to do it to help comfort themselves and he would be loath to deny them that. Willow takes his large hand in both of her own and starts gently rubbing soothing circles on the back of it.

“Take it easy okay, and no skipping lunch again,” she warns. “Don’t think we don’t know about that buster!” Giles rolls his eyes. 

“I’ll investigate the cafeteria’s offerings before you heathens stampede,” he jokes. That earns a snigger from the red head and they go back to the now comfortable silence. 

******

Rupert Giles was having a truly ghastly evening. 

One of many as of late. Buffy had requested that he accompany her on patrol again tonight, presumably because of the latest ‘Xander incident’ earlier. It had started off as a quiet evening, Buffy had dusted a couple of Vamps with ease, there was no sign of her ex-honey prowling and there was no impending apocalypse. That was before he’d gotten jumped by a demon in the last graveyard they’d patrolled. It had swiped him to the ground, digging its claws into his shoulder but luckily Buffy had stabbed it through the heart with her dagger before it could deliver the killing blow. As she’d done so, the creature dissolved into thick green goo, covering the Watcher from head to toe. 

Like always, Buffy had displayed her concern with grace and tact. She’d taken one look at his slime covered face and burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter. Not even his most powerful glare was enough to get her to stop, it only made it worse. He’d ended up laughing at the absurdity of the situation too and it had taken ten minutes for the pair of them to calm down. They had reluctantly parted ways after Buffy had admitted the smell of him made her want to hurl and Giles started the long walk home. He did reek, whatever that demon was, it smelled repulsive and it took too much willpower for him to keep himself from throwing up whenever he caught a whiff of it. He would’ve driven but there’s no chance he’d get the goo out of the upholstery of his beloved Citroen. 

It was almost an hour and a half later that Giles finally got to his front door. He fished his keys out of his pocket, cursing as they slipped out of his fingers, and entered his flat. After closing the door and bolting it, Giles stood still surveying the place. Nothing looked like it had been moved in his absence, it all seemed perfectly normal. Letting out a breath he was unconsciously holding, Giles made a beeline for the bathroom. He practically tore his clothes off, dumping them unceremoniously on the floor before getting into the shower without waiting for the water to warm up. Why did it have to be slime? Why couldn’t it be something more pleasant like fluffy bunnies? Giles is utterly convinced that there are higher powers screwing with him for the sport. This is one of those times and if he ever meets a higher power, he’ll be sure to beat it to death. He lets the water wash over his weary body summoning the strength to reach for the shower gel to scrub himself clean. Maybe he should’ve just bathed in bleach, that would’ve cleaned the hideous, stench ridden goo off him. 

Twenty-five minutes later, Giles exits the shower dreading the water bill he knows he just racked up. His life royally sucked sometimes. Once he’d gotten the slime off, he’d become aware that the demon’s claws had in fact penetrated his tweed armour, leaving a few jagged cuts on his shoulder. They weren’t particularly deep, but he didn’t want to risk getting them infected after the whole incident. With a heavy sigh, he pulled the first aid kit out from under the sink and padded out to his sofa making a mental note to throw out his ruined clothes. Part of him wanted to just sleep for a month solidly. At least that way he’d be able to avoid getting slimed. It doesn’t take long to clean the wounds, though it does elicit a few curses that the children must never learn, and he tapes a dressing over them with a practiced ease. It’s a small mercy that it wasn’t his left shoulder, it’s doubtful whether the feat could’ve been managed as efficiently on his own. 

By the time Giles had finished clearing up the residual mess of the evening, it’s a little after three in the morning and he’s bloody knackered. There’s little point in sleeping now with work in a few hours. He always liked to get there by half seven to sort out any fallout from the previous night’s activities. He wouldn’t be able to get more than an hour if he were lucky, what with all forcing his mind to shut up and let him rest in peace. If necessary, he can always nap in his office, it’s not like the students of Sunnydale High actually use the library. Yes, that’s a plan. He’s going to need his strength for weapons training with Buffy after school. 

Choosing to let his mind wander to his Slayer, Giles plans the training schedule for Buffy next week. Normally he does this on a Friday night but now is as good a time as any. She’d seemed quite eager to stop the ‘theory’ side of her training which hadn’t come as a surprise to him. Ever since their first meeting, Giles knew that Buffy would favour a more practical training regime. Of course, with her heightened senses would come heightened energy so they trained almost daily just to keep her from getting too restless. After reading the previous Watcher’s Diaries, Giles had found numerous methods to train her in a more practical way while ensuring that Buffy would get sufficient knowledge to complete her sacred duties. Sometimes they’d train at the weekend if she didn’t have any plans and if he were honest with himself, he hated the brutality of it, but with the school being empty except for the odd cleaner or teacher, they could use the gymnasium which was far better equipped. 

Perhaps he could persuade her to spend her Sunday afternoon developing her weapons technique. He’d noticed that she was dropping her shoulder when she goes for an attack which he needed to correct before it’s too late. Or he could ask her what she felt needed attention. However, if she suggests running again, he was going to refuse. She can bloody well jog on if she thinks he’s ever chasing any evil ever again. Now that was hell. He shudders at the mere thought of it. No, it’ll have to be weapons, that shoulder drop cannot be allowed to become habit. Although in all honesty, Giles is positive Buffy would rather spend her weekend shopping for more ridiculously high shoes. 

Think now, sleep later, he reminds himself as he heads to the kitchen to make more tea. While his tea brews, Giles peruses his bookshelves for something to pass the time, settling on a book about the English Monarchy. Not because he’s suddenly overcome by a specific interest in the topic but because it’ll be complex enough to keep him awake without being too taxing at this hour for his brain to process. He settles down with his tea and book waiting for dawn to break. 

*****

“I’m telling you guys he was absolutely covered in it. If only I’d had a camera to capture the moment,” Buffy’s voice carries into the library from the doorway. Giles hadn’t been able to sleep in his office after Principal Snyder had decided that he needed to contribute to the school environment more and sent him to monitor study hall for the morning. Then there had been a faculty meeting at lunch and now the whole bloody gang had rocked up, laughing at his expense. He can hear them all chatting away happily and forces himself to emerge from the stacks he was reorganising. Their timing wasn’t great, he’d just gotten into a rhythm and didn’t want to have to find it again. 

“Hey check it out! It’s the bogeyman!” Xander jokes when he watched the librarian approach the group carrying a few books. They all giggle and Giles clenched his jaw to stop himself making a rather unpleasant, though not entirely undeserved, remark about the boy, instead settling for a pointed glare. 

“Gotta say, you smell a lot less gross today Giles,” Buffy smiles giving him the once over. 

“The whole bottle of shower gel I got through last night trying to get the bloody stuff off probably helped,” he admits. 

“Rinse, lather, repeat. I’m all too familiar with that technique.” Giles lets a small smile cross his lips. 

“I hope you burnt all your clothes because getting demon slime out is nearly impossible, believe me I’ve tried,” Cordelia chimed in.

“Helpful as ever Cordelia,” he mutters to himself. Giles knew that Cordelia wasn’t as materialistic as they’d assumed but sometimes, she plays the façade too well. 

“Did it like burn your flesh?” Willow inquires eagerly. At the somewhat confounded look on Giles’ face she elaborates. “Not that burning flesh is of the good but in a purely scientific kinda way. I’ve never been gooped before. Y’know, idle curiosity.” He smiles inwardly, what a wonderfully weird brain Willow has. 

“No, no burning flesh. No harm done except my total and utter public humiliation.” The teens laugh and continue their previous conversation. 

“What’s with the bookage?” Buffy gestures to the stack in his arms. “There’d better not be more gross slime monsters.” 

“Hmm?” 

“I’ll take that as a no then.” With a shake of his head, the librarian retreats to the stacks. He’s not really in the mood for bantering right now, it’s one of the rare occasions when he’s actually got work to do.

“Hey, can we skip training and research today?” A voice behind him asks timidly. He turns around slightly and sees Buffy in his line of vision. “The gang needs a break, so we figured going on an overdue morale boost trip to the mall. I promise you and I can patrol after.” 

“Fine,” Giles sighs after a few moments, defeatedly. Of course, they will need some time to be teenagers, especially after the shitty week they’ve all had. Plus, she’d just pout at him and go off on a rant about how her destiny is so unfair and he always says that she can have a normal life if he’d kicked up a fuss. 

“I’ll call you once we get back then we can patrol,” She reassures. He nods. “Make sure to be careful, no more stinky slime.” 

“Of course. Go galivant,” he orders focusing instead on his books. He hears Buffy skip off happily and they all head out of the library together yelling goodbyes at him. Maybe now he can finally get some time to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story about this chapter, part of it was originally going to be a standalone fic but I decided that it'd be better incorporated in here. However I do still have the draft for that may be uploaded at a later date once this one is finished. Or maybe in the interim, who knows? 
> 
> Real life is picking up again, it's stressful and odd, but I wouldn't change it. While most of it is written, I do keep editing it at like five in the morning because insomnia so I can hopefully keep a semi regular schedule. I'm hoping to have it all uploaded by the end of the year. 
> 
> One thing that keeps being asked is whether the story is heading in a darker direction. While I don't want to give too many spoilers, I will say that there's a reason it's rated the way that it is and why there are so many warnings, and no, it's not for smut. Partially because I hate writing it and secondly because I'm well aware that my mother reads these fics so that'd be awkward. 
> 
> As always, thank you for your continued support, it really does mean a lot to me and encourage me to crawl over to my desk to keep writing. :) <3


	6. Not Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely rewrote this chapter and I'm still not happy with it but it's a nice long one so yay I guess. It is kinda filler I can't lie because there's a big one coming hopefully early next week once I've finished tweaking. 
> 
> It's been a strange week, but I now have 3kg of Haribo so I can't complain and someone put a whole poached egg in the sink earlier which I had to fish out with a kebab stick so that was... something. 
> 
> Anyway, as always, I'm inept so all mistakes are me being dumb... and a massive thank you for all of your continued support <3

“So, what are we thinking?” Xander asks the group between fries. “Do we need to start the next phase of Operation Red Zone?”

“We’re not at the Red Zone yet possibly more of a weak yellow,” Willow counters. Buffy smiles at her friend’s optimism. They may not be yet, but her gut tells her that the dial moves steadily closer. 

“He’s seemed a more like himself the past couple days,” Cordelia responds. “I guess getting out of the dust trap did him some good. Maybe we can persuade him to do daytime activities outside. Let him soak up some Californian sun, get some Vitamin D in his system and work on looking less like a ghost.” 

“I think we should wait until after the funeral on Friday before planning for any next phases. See how the night-time field trips go before we plan any full day excursions.” 

“Plus, Giles hates the sun almost as much as vampires do,” Xander adds. “Do you not hear his constant complaining about how ‘bloody hot’ it always is? They must just not have sun in England.” 

“I keep telling him that if he ditched the tweed and sweater vest combo, he’d be cooler,” Cordelia exclaims grabbing Xander’s arm. At the confounded looks on her friends’ faces she frowns. “What? We’re all thinking it.” 

“Giles’ questionable dress sense aside, patrolling has been anything but smooth sailing the past couple of days with this new vamp boy band in town and creatures from the land of goo,” Buffy explains. “Speaking of, I gotta split. I promised Giles I’d patrol with him.” 

Bidding her friends goodnight, Buffy heads in the direction of Giles’ flat after stopping by a payphone to call and forewarn him she’s on her way over. Normally, she’d just head for the Library but after a massive argument that nearly came to blows, Giles had begrudgingly agreed to go home after school and stay there, just in case. He’d probably only agreed to get her to shut up. At lest she knows that the incredibly stubborn nature of her Watcher will ensure that he will in fact, stay put. She can almost hear his voice in her head, ‘I agreed, did I not?’ with that smug tone that makes her hit just that little bit harder when they do hand to hand. 

Reflecting on the discussion of the day, Buffy quickens her pace. In truth, she’s worried about her Watcher. Yes, he seems to be as tweedy as always, but her gut is telling her something is wrong. He’s always tells her to have faith in her instincts. She had voiced her concerns to the others and received mixed responses. Cordelia thinks he’s just being British, Oz shrugged non-committedly and Xander thinks it’s best to leave Giles alone. Willow had agreed though, which was something. 

Watching isn’t really working out, it’s time for a different approach. The other night when Buffy had ordered him to go home, she was certain he had adhered to her commands so perhaps they should straight up ask him what they can do. That’ll have to be a last resort if it really gets out of control. In the meantime, she was going to have a nice, quiet evening patrolling with her Watcher. 

“Ready?” She asks when he opens the door to his flat. She lingers by his desk but not before stealing a quick glance upstairs. Memories of the last time that she was here come flooding back and she has to shake her head to clear them. No, happy thoughts, slaying vampires… crossbows… that super cute sweater she saw at the mall earlier. Little blue one with flowers on. Her impulse control was seriously tested when she saw that. 

“Hmm? Oh, yes… sorry,” He responds grabbing his jacket and a spare stake, one could never be too careful. Buffy scans the flat and frowns. Her Watcher is a creature of habit, structure and order so surely if he was not himself for whatever reason, there would be evidence of it in his home in the form of a letter on his desk or a dirty cup in the sink. The only person he would ever let make any kind of mess in his space or vicinity is… was Ms Calendar. Can’t think about that now, no crying tonight. The flat looks just as neat as always. There’s not a mug out of place, not a spec of dust on any of the bookshelves. Perhaps he is fine after all and they’re all overreacting. “You alright?” 

“Uh huh. Let’s get out of here and go fight evil.” 

Giles offers her a small smile as he locks the door behind them. He must’ve sensed her unease, of course he did. When doesn’t he notice something? 

“You know you can always come to me for anything at all, Slayer related or not?” he says casually as if reading her mind.

“And I’m very grateful for that. Why?” 

“Something is upsetting you, that much is obvious. Unlike any other factors you needlessly berate yourself for or that are caused purely by hormone related angst, something is amiss. I want you to feel comfortable enough to divulge such information should you wish to,” he explains as they drive to the cemetery. 

“There’s just a lot going on, you know.” 

“That is true, t-these current times are certainly um… eventful. I just worry is all.” So do I, Buffy thinks. 

“Giles, you worry about not finishing your tea before it gets cold.” The Watcher smirks at that. “I get your point and I would tell you if there was something up but there’s nothing new right now that you don’t already know.”

“Very well.” After a beat, Giles decides to change topic. “Do you suppose that we’ll encounter our new vampire acquaintance?” 

“If we do, I hope your cardio is better than it was the other day.”

“You can bloody well jog on if you think I’m going to be performing an Olympic sprint after that menace again.” Buffy can’t contain her laughter at his faux-irritated tone. God he can make her laugh, sometimes to the point where her sides hurt, and this is one of them. After a minute or so, she has control of herself and just watches him. “What?” 

“I didn’t think British people were master comedians.” The side eye he gives her is enough to make her start laughing again. 

“Hardly. We just have a wicked sense of humour that’s far too sophisticated for you Americans, so you miss out on all the good jokes,” he replies with a smirk. 

The rest of the drive, and the start of patrol is in comfortable silence between the pair. They don’t need to talk to each other the whole time, in fact, they can communicate pretty effectively non-verbally. Buffy’s Mum always says that some people you can just click with and others you can’t. That’s what the Slayer has with her Watcher. 

After an hour or so, Buffy breaks the silence, “Where are all the vamps and nasties tonight? How come they get a night off?” 

“I’m not sure though it could be because a certain weapon wielding, cult worshipping vampire is frightening them off,” Giles replies after a moment. 

“Vamps don’t get scared by other vamps, doesn’t matter if they have flashy accessories or not,” she scoffs. 

“Flashy accessories like a mace?” 

“So not a superior weapon choice, why not pick something more functional like an axe or a really pointy thing-” 

“I don’t know,” he interrupts. “Personally, the presence of a mace wielding fiend is quite unsettling, especially if it’s charging toward you.” 

“What are you talking about?” She follows his gaze and her eyes go wide. How the hell did she miss that? Sure enough, the black ranger is wielding a mace, and charging across the graveyard straight at them. Fabulous. “Oh, that mace wielding fiend.” 

Wrapping her hand tightly around her stake, Buffy counter charges at her foe, preparing for battle. There is no way she’s letting this guy get away again. With a nifty roundhouse kick, a few swipes left, an uppercut or two, she’s got it on the ropes, point one to the Slayer. 

Giles gets ready to jump into the thick of it if needed but it looks like he won’t have to. His chest swells with pride as he watches his Slayer fight with masterful technique. Far better than his own, despite the thirty odd years he’s been training. The way she weaves and dodges its strikes, her counter moves timed just so for the most impact, the way she goes absolutely flying landing square on her arse after being swiped by the mace… 

Something primal takes over the Watcher and he lunges at the vampire with a growl. How dare it hurt her. In a flurry of fists and disgustingly violent manoeuvres, Giles has the vampire pinned against a crypt in a manner of seconds. As he reaches for the stake in his back pocket, the vamp spins them around and prepares weapon for a fatal blow. Time to play dirty. The Watcher kicks his opponents legs out from under it and grabs it by the collar tightly. There is absolutely no fucking way that it’s getting away from him this time. Giles starts pummelling the vampire beyond unconsciousness with strength he didn’t know he possessed. Strike after strike landing with power and precision. What feels like hours later, Giles finally stakes his foe relishing in the satisfaction of watching it disintegrate to dust. 

Taking a step back with his brain on autopilot, Giles turns in the direction he saw Buffy fall and sprints back to her side. 

“Giles?” she asks cautiously upon hearing footsteps rapidly approaching. Please be Giles, please don’t be vamp face. Sure enough, it’s Giles’ face that is in front of hers, all non-lumpy and human. 

“Can you sit?” He asks giving her the quick once over, slipping his arm behind her shoulders once he’s sure she’s not severed her spinal cord. At her nod, he gently helps her lean against the headstone behind her. There are no obvious wounds which is somewhat of a relief. 

“I’m good, just give me a minute. Vamp boy knocked the wind right outta me,” she announces massaging her side while getting into a more comfortable position. Giles sits down next to her, watching her every move. Adrenaline still rushes through his veins, he thought that she’d been killed. She’s bloody lucky that she wasn’t. Giles doesn’t consider himself to be a violent man, if anything he’s a firm believer that violence is not the most productive method to resolve conflict. However, if something messes with Buffy or her friends… “I take it he got away again?” 

“No, I took care of it.” 

“Way to go Giles,” Buffy exclaims barely keeping the surprise out of her voice. Not that Giles can’t handle himself, he has actually taken her down a few times, but this particular vamp was something else. Maybe he just got lucky? After all, that’s sometimes all it takes to best your opponent. 

“Do you think that anything’s broken?” 

“No, just a few bruises, I can feel Slayer healing kicking in anyways.” A pause. “Thanks for ya know… staking it.” Giles jerks his head in some semblance of a nod. What’s going on? Why isn’t he fussing as much as normal? Not that she likes his post battle fussing. Actually, it pisses her off a great deal of the time and she frequently tells him to back off and stop being such a hypochondriac, but a little more fuss would be nice. Hello, almost got ribs smashed in! Normally he’d be all ‘dear lord, let me check you’re not about to drop dead’ if she got so much as a paper cut. He really picked a weird time to finally get the memo about his over protectiveness. “Are you okay?” 

“Fine.” 

“Giles?” 

“Fine.” Something in his icy tone tells her to stop pushing. Let’s file that one away for later. “I really ought to get you checked over, it looked like a serious blow.” Ah okay, a little more fussing. Probably, scratch that, definitely deflecting.

“Nah, I’m good. You can have a poke if you want but trust me, no broken Buffy tonight,” she pauses looking up at him with a slight smile. “Wouldn’t say no to ice cream though.” 

“Very well, but only if you allow me to ensure that it’s nothing serious,” he sighs before shooting her a warning glare. Yikes, someone is seriously testy tonight. Must’ve been one hell of a fight. 

“Deal.” Buffy clambers to her feet with the aid of her Watcher and stretches her back out, wincing as it cracks. Why can’t she have a chiropractor on standby? Her spine feels like it’s thirty years older than the rest of her which is so not cool. What gave it the right? She takes a deep breath, yep definitely nothing broken or cracked, just sore. Maybe a soothing bubble bath when she gets home will do her good. The pair start the journey back to the car in silence, tension thick but for no reason that Buffy can discern. “Yours or the Library for prodding?”

“Hmm? Oh… well i-it’s up to you which you’d prefer,” he replies nervously. Please don’t say his, please don’t make him go back there it’s driving him mad. 

“Yours?” Bollocks. 

“A-as you wish.” 

“Ice cream first, prodding later?” He nods. That crossbow in the library is being fucking confiscated for a few days.

*****

Less than an hour later, Buffy is sat on Giles’ surprisingly comfy sofa with a tub of disgracefully unhealthy strawberry ice cream in her lap. Despite her earlier unease, she feels safe and cosy wrapped up in a blanket eating ice cream. There’s something about the Watcher’s flat that is just homely to her. At first, it was the excitement of being in Giles’ personal space and being nosy at all his stuff, though not too inquisitive after learning about ‘Ripper’ from Ethan. Now, it’s the excitement of knowing that Giles keeps her favourite snacks in. He does for all of them just in case they ever need to drop by. There’s even a box of twinkies at the back of the cupboard that Buffy knows are intended for Xander, though Giles would deny all knowledge of such filth in his home. 

The man in question is busy making tea in said kitchen, a ritual act to be completed at least thirty times a day. Buffy is genuinely convinced that he’s 80% tea at this point. She doesn’t usually like tea, more of a coffee gal, unless Giles makes it. Maybe its because he’s British and therefore makes what he calls ‘proper tea’. Something about it has an instant soothing effect, much like chocolate or ice cream does for her. A few moments later, he emerges with two steaming mugs of tea. That was something Buffy had learned during patrol one evening with Giles: the difference between mugs and teacups. 

In his words, teacups are for when one uses a teapot, mugs are for a kettle. Teapots are compatible with either loose tea or teabags, depending on the company/type of situation. Because it takes more time to create the perfect brew, it can lend itself when one needs to focus entirely on the matter at hand. Contrastingly, kettles are used if one is in a rush, or can’t be arsed to faff about, though you can use teacups with kettles if you don’t value fine china. Kettles can also be compatible with loose tea but generally only people who are trying to appear posher than they are do this in a mug. Teabags work better with kettles. The brand of tea is be dependent on the taste of the individual and the type of tea. All tea is soothing, but mug tea is more so because one can physically hug the mug. 

The tea making procedure isn’t too complex, especially with mug tea. Take the teabag, put it in the mug, add sugar but only if you take sugar, add boiling water, stir, add a splash of milk, squeeze the teabag against the side of the mug before disposal for maximum flavour.

Mug tea is something that Buffy can almost make correctly. Teapot tea is something that took Willow eighteen months and a detailed instruction manual to perfect. 

When Buffy had presented Giles with her first attempt of tea, he’d nearly had a stroke. She’d put the milk in first because that just made sense to her, like why would you not put the milk in while the kettle is boiling? It saves time, right? Wrong. Giles isn’t the most expressive guy, but she’d actually watched his face morph into one of pure horror upon learning that particular piece of information. Forget the forces of darkness, messing up tea is true evil. 

The point is that Giles usually breaks out the mug tea after patrol when there’s a need for physical comfort and he’s far too stuffy to just admit that maybe a hug would be the answer. He set the mugs down and perched on the edge of the coffee table facing Buffy. 

“May I uh… prod?” He asks nervously. Weird, he’s never nervous about having to deal with injuries, no matter the kind. At first, it’d been awkward, but they’d all patched each other up so many times now that it was now just a case of, ‘here we go again’. Another thing to file away under worry later. She nods and scoots to the edge of the sofa, shrugging the blanket off her shoulders. 

“What gives with you tonight?” She asks as his fingers gently brush against her side where she’d indicated. “Is it because I took a hit? Because I always take hits, that’s called fighting for your life. And it wasn’t a like it was a big hit, more of a light tap.” 

“No, of course not. I’m well aware that it’s part of the job, however much I don’t like it.” 

“Then what has you wound tighter than my mother on Thanksgiving?” 

“M-may I take a quick look?” Rolling her eyes, Buffy pulls the side of her top up enough for Giles to examine her. Just a few bruises, already yellowing. She doesn’t seem to be in any pain so hopefully they’ll be gone by morning. Satisfied, he hands her the spoon back for the ice cream. God it could’ve been so much worse. It’d looked so much worse. “All done, sit and drink your tea and I’ll drop you back home.” 

“You’re the best, what would I do without you?” 

“Not be sat eating a tub of strawberry ice cream?” He smirks sitting at the other end of the sofa. 

“Want some?” 

“One-way ticket to type two diabetes? I think I’ll pass.”

“You’re not gonna get fat off one pot of ice cream. Nobody’s metabolism is that bad.” 

“Correct because I’m not going to eat any of it.” 

“Don’t make me come over there and force you.” 

“Don’t even think about it.” Flashing a toothy grin at her Watcher, Buffy lunges across the sofa, armed with a spoonful of pink ice cream. Giles had already predicted this and was ready, it happens every single time but he honestly doesn’t want to engage in the usual struggle before it ends up all down his shirt or all over her jacket, or worse still, on the bloody sofa. Partially because he isn’t so sure he can control himself after the stress of the evening. He’d successfully raised his hand to intercept the incoming spoon, perhaps he can flick it back at her, now wouldn’t that be amusing? Buffy wraps her hand around his and starts to pry it off when a sudden hiss makes her stop. 

“Giles?” She puts the spoon back in the tub on the table and watches him eyes wide. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I told you I don’t fancy ice cream.” 

“If you lie to me again, I swear to god I will drown you in the stuff. What’s wrong?” 

Sensing defeat, Giles sighs, “My hand aches a little.” 

“Left or right?” Okay, ache is code for something worse. You could literally cut his leg off and he’d probably say it was a tad uncomfortable. 

“Left.” 

“Gimme,” she demands turning to face him. Reluctantly, Giles presents her his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me!” 

“Because I didn’t want you to make a fuss like you are now when there is absolutely no need to do so.” No need? His hand is the same colour as the ice cream! Not to mention the bruises already forming around his knuckles. 

“Giles your hand looks broken!” 

“Stop being overdramatic. It’s a tad bruised I’ll grant you, but it’s fine.” 

“Giles what happened?” 

“I told, you. I killed the vampire; it just took more effort than usual.” 

“You didn’t plunge and move on, did you?” He sheepishly shakes his head. To be brutally honest, he hadn’t noticed until he’d gotten in the car that anything was wrong. By which point, Buffy was thoroughly distracted by the prospect of frozen goods. “Right, sit still and shut up. Hold this.” She hands him the tub and gets up to retrieve the ice pack from the freezer that he keeps for moments such as this, wrapping it in a tea towel on the way. Why did she have to be so self-absorbed that she didn’t notice before? What is wrong with her? What’s wrong with him! Being all self-sacrificing and noble, when actually he’s being an asshole. He winces when she forces the ice pack against the back of his hand. Good. 

“You’ve got five seconds to explain to me why this happened and then I will decide how mad I am. In your own time.” 

“When I was fighting the vampire, I may have gotten carried away, but I can’t really remember what happened- “ 

“Are you kidding me! Concussion too?” He is in so much trouble. 

“No, I don’t have a concussion,” he snipes, leaning away from her hand trying to feel his head for lumps.

“Yeah right. How many have you had in the last few months? At least three.” Yikes, that’s a scary number that’s definitely increased.

“Buffy you misunderstand, I can’t remember anything because I was so angry that it’d hurt you.” Oh. That’s not what she was expecting. It takes her a few minutes to process that and not burst into tears. If he’d just said that from the start, then the only issue would be that he needlessly put himself in harm’s way. She would’ve gotten up after a few seconds if he’d just been patient. Also, he wouldn’t even have a broken hand if she hadn’t taken him on patrol. Maybe she should patrol alone from now on. 

“So, you whaled on a vampire because you started seeing red?” He nods turning his gaze to the floor. Buffy sighs, massaging her temples. It’s not vampires that are going to kill her, it’s her dumb, idiot watcher. 

“Buffy, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner but in my defence, I didn’t register it until much later.” She sidled right up next to him for easier access to the ice cream, reached for the spoon and continues munching away. 

“Dumbass.” 

“I know.” 

“If I weren’t so comfy and you weren’t such a good leaning post, I’d be yelling at you right now.” He chuckles. “I’m serious, we’re going to have a serious, grown up conversation about this.” 

“Whatever you want.” He reaches for his mug with his right hand and takes a sip. 

“It’s not broken is it?” 

“I highly doubt it seeing as I still have a full range of motion and dexterity.” 

“Will you get it checked out to be safe?” 

“Not unless it doesn’t start healing.” 

“You’d better.” 

“Whatever you want.” 

*****

Wednesday morning arrives all too quickly and Buffy finds herself heading to the library in search of her Watcher for the morning check-in. Usually, one of them will conveniently be in the Library to make sure that he’s still alive and not looking too crappy. He’s not there. Where is he? Taking a peek through his office window, she spots his jacket, so he is in the building somewhere. Weird, he picked a strange time to get a life. Five minutes later, the Librarian comes stomping in muttering obscenities. 

“Hey Giles,” Buffy announces. He stops and looks up at her, scowl instantly softening. “Where ya been?”

“Principal Snyder wanted a quick word in the form of demanding that my ‘violent outbursts’ need to be tamed,” Giles quickly informs her. “He’s essentially forcing me partake in an anger management class to ensure that I don’t beat the living daylights out of a student who hasn’t paid their overdue book fees.” 

“What he thinks you’re gonna go all Rocky Balboa? What gave him that idea?” Buffy already knows the answer to that question, that wasn’t a conversation that she was going to forget about anytime soon. 

In response, Giles simply raises his hand. It looked much better than it had at the time, but it’s unmistakably bruising from fighting. Buffy can picture the scene now: Giles in the morning faculty meeting, Snyder seeing his hand because of course he would then pulling him into the office like a child, after obviously publicly shaming him for it. One of these days she was going to seriously have an accident with a crossbow, if she could find the fucking thing. “When is he making you do this?” 

“The original plan had been next week but with… t-the um... funeral… I-I’m supposed to go tomorrow afternoon.” The funeral was the talk of the school, has been for the past week. It seems like everyone is going, most of the faculty, a lot of the students, even Snyder was rumoured to be in attendance.   
“I’m guessing there’s more to the story,” Buffy asks stepping cautiously closer, ready to give a supportive pat on the shoulder. Giles shakes his head and sits on the edge of the table. “Giles, spill.” 

“It’s not important Buffy,” he sighs fiddling with his fingers. “Just our wonderful dictator being the usual vermin that he is.” Buffy crosses her arms and shoots him her best glare. It’s feeble but seems to do the trick. “He uh… thought t-that it’d be prudent to have attended the class prior to Friday… j-just in case emotions are uh… running high.” 

“What the fuck!” Buffy screeches. 

“Language!”

“Giles, he thinks you killed Ms Calendar and that you’re gonna do it again! I’m not gonna mind my fucking language!” She claps her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. Shit. Shit. She didn’t mean to say that. Fuck. God if there was ever a time for the Hellmouth to open up, it’d be now. Vamp attack, yes please. Hell, even a geometry test. Why can’t she just keep her fat mouth shut? She nervously casts a glance at the Watcher who seems to be… laughing? Why’s it funny? “Giles?” 

“Sorry,” he giggles. After a moment he composes himself and wipes a ridiculous grin off his face. “I have no idea what came over me, I do apologise.” 

“He’s making you sit an anger management class because he thinks you’re a serial killer,” as the words come out of her mouth, Buffy has to admit that she can see the funny side of it. Giles, the most stuffy, anti-social, passive aggressive person she’s ever met in her life is being forced to go and learn to control his temper. “Okay that is funny.” 

“Glad you’re amused.” 

“So, what’s the big? You go, pretend to listen to the life coach, pacify rat-face then go about your day,” Buffy explains. “I know it sucks but are you actually surprised he’s trying to mess with you?” 

“On the contrary, and I’ve absolutely no intention of taking heed of any of it. Let Snyder play his games, I really couldn’t care less.” That’s a blatant lie. Not about the Snyder part but about everything else. Giles is absolutely certain that the reason behind this little game is not because he’s about to be featured in a serial killer profile documentary, but because he keeps losing his head. Yelling at Xander for no reason, pummelling that vampire the other night, even training that little bit harder with Buffy is all starting to cause problems, and were the reasons why he hadn’t protested quite as much as he perhaps should’ve. Maybe he does need to be put in check. 

“Good. Because he’s a foul little troll that is literally the physical embodiment of grossness and evil.” Giles smiles. “Anyways, I have a question for you. Where’s the crossbow?” 

“Buffy, I can’t allow you to ‘accidently’ shoot Principal Snyder with a crossbow.”

“Why do you have to spoil my fun?”


	7. Goodbyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sad one I can't lie. I found it horrible to write and even more horrible to edit.

Bright morning rays and birdsong flooded Buffy’s bedroom. There’s no reason for it to be sunny today, stupid Californian weather. Why can’t it take a day off? Is that too much to ask? It’s supposed to be all dark and miserable, not the perfect spring morning.

It takes a lot of motivation for her to get up and begin to contemplate facing today, even more still to haul herself out of the soft comfort of bed and downstairs to the kitchen.

“Morning sweetheart,” Joyce hands Buffy a glass of fresh orange juice, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Do you want breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry,” Buffy replies stifling a yawn. The prospect of food is making her feel nauseous.

“You should really eat something, even if it’s just some toast.” Buffy nods and takes a seat at the breakfast bar. Might as well pacify her mother, there’s no point starting today off with an argument. In the end she manages one and a half slices, at least she shouldn’t have her stomach growling, that’d be embarrassing. “What time’s the service?”

“Twelve thirty,” Buffy answers finishing her juice. “That’s what Willow said anyways. Not sure when it’ll be over though.” Nobody ever knows how long funerals take. Services are usually an hour, maybe slightly longer but then there’s the wake, and the small talk with people and before you know it, the whole day’s gone.

“So, I had an idea for this evening,” Joyce explains taking a seat next to Buffy. “How would you like a nice quiet movie night with Xander and Willow? With takeout and snacks?” Honestly that sounds wonderful. A nice, quiet night of sitting doing absolutely nothing but watching crappy 80s movies with copious amounts of chocolate. However, whether or not that possibility will become a reality is a different story.

“I’ll ask them, but it sounds great.” Joyce nods and begins to prepare for her day.

“You’ve got your outfit and everything sorted?”

“Yeah, we’re coming here after second period to get ready then head over.”

“Good. Listen, as much as I want to be here, I can’t escape work this morning but if you need anything at all, please call me?” Buffy nods and smiles slightly at her mother. “Thank you. I’ve gotta run but I’ll see you later. Love you.”

“Love you too.” And with that, Joyce makes a swift exit, grabbing her car keys as she goes leaving Buffy all alone. Her mum had said that she didn’t have to go in this morning, that she’d more than happily write a note, but Buffy refused. There are a few things that she needs to check up on first. Plus, it’s easier for the gang to meet at the school anyways. Mercifully, Cordelia had offered to be chauffer for today, which meant that they didn’t have to be those awkward people having their parents drop them off or arriving all sweaty because they walked.

Today was going to be hard, on all of them. With all the supressed emotions finally bubbling to the surface over the events of the last few weeks, Buffy feels that she has to be on high alert for the unexpected. Willow is going to spend all day crying, Xander’ll probably be flicking between anger and sadness but at least Cordelia will be happy enough to do her own thing. Oz had decided that although he wants to be there for Willow, attending the service was not something that he felt was appropriate, which they’d all respected and he’d offered to bring food and hugs should they be required afterwards.

The only variable about today that Buffy has found impossible to predict, is her Watcher. Jury’s out as to whether he even shows up, especially after yesterday. He’d been in pace mode all day; it was a wonder he hadn’t worn through his shoes. He just hadn’t been able to sit still. Willow had tried to get him to sit and read through something from science class with her because she ‘didn’t get it’, but he’d gotten Buffy levels of restlessness and begun doing laps of the Library. Xander had then put a bet on the likelihood of the Watcher doing a runner and Buffy was beginning to favour those odds. No, he will show, he’d absolutely despise himself if he didn’t and there’s no way that Ms Calendar would’ve let that slide. She’d have grabbed him by the lapels and dragged him there kicking and screaming. Buffy smiles at the mental image.

It’s going to be a long day.

*****

Before they know it, the gang are gathered by the entrance to the graveyard. It’s absolutely packed with people. A fair few students and teachers, Snyder was lurking keeping a keen eye on everyone, the owner of the magic shop as Willow informed them, a small group of women that presumably went to college with Ms Calendar or were also technopagans. All in all, it’s a large turnout. The gang had put on their best outfits deciding that Ms Calendar deserved the best, Xander was wearing a suit and everything.

“You owe me ten bucks,” Willow whispers leaning over to Xander. “And a jelly doughnut.” Xander follows her gaze and sighs pulling out his wallet. Not that he’s bothered about the bet itself, but the fact that the money could’ve gone on a delicious corndog or something. Buffy turns to see what they’re starting at and smiles inwardly.

“Why can’t he dress like that more?” Cordelia asks giving the Watcher a serious once over. The man does scrub up well. That suit is perfectly cut, and not tweed which is an added bonus. Freshly polished shoes, shiny cufflinks, hair combed neatly back instead of looking slightly mussed like it usually did. It’s obvious that he wanted to look his absolute best for today which breaks her heart a little.

“We should go say hi,” Willow offers preparing to head over. Buffy catches Snyder’s eye and she quickly grabs her friend by the arm.

“We can’t. Snyder’s already got it in for Giles and he’s gonna be watching us all creepily closely,” Buffy explains.

“But we can’t let him do this on his own,” Willow protests feeling herself start to tear up. There’s no way she’s going to let Giles stand there by himself.

“Will, Snyder has the power to have Giles not only fired but arrested and he won’t hesitate. Believe me, I hate it just as much as you but we have to hang back,” Buffy pulls Willow into a tight hug, there is nothing more she wants right now than to run up to her Watcher and make sure that he’s going to be as okay as he can be.

“It’s not fair,” Willow whimpers pulling back. Xander holds her hand and shakes his head.

“No, it’s not,” he sighs, bringing her hand close to his chest. “But the big guy’s seen us, and he knows we’re here for whatever he needs. The best thing we can do is be here for him, and for Ms Calendar, that’s what she’d want.” Cordelia feels her heart swell with pride, that’s her guy. Xander nods at Giles who nods stiffly back. Buffy catches his gaze and winces. He looks like shit. He offers her a curt smile and spots Snyder watching them keenly, better stick to the shadows.

A short while later, the hearse arrives followed by another black car. Isn’t it odd that it’s such a normal funeral when Ms Calendar was raised into a clan of travellers? Aren’t there like traditions and stuff that are supposed to be done? Or is that horribly stereotypical? Buffy makes a mental note to ask Giles about it at a later date, he’ll know. Even if he doesn’t, he’ll find out. It would have to be in a few months though because it was hard enough trying to get him to talk about the funeral in general. Xander had asked about it the other day and Giles had only explained that it was being planned by Ms Calendar’s cousin, Kaiya. He hadn’t really said anything about her family, though other than what they’d needed to know, nor had Ms Calendar. Obviously, she must have a family somewhere, but it’d never been a topic of discussion. Same way that they just assumed that Giles probably had family back in England, but he never spoke about them.

Out of the smaller car emerge two women, one of which looks pretty much identical to Ms Calendar, though slightly shorter and with longer hair. Willow nearly does a double take; the resemblance is uncanny. The Ms Calendar lookalike is followed by an older lady with thick silver hair. Presumably her mother. The lookalike spots Giles and heads over, the exact same swagger as Ms Calendar, hand outstretched. How does she know who he is? Snyder spots the interaction and moves closer to the Watcher practically frothing at the mouth. In his eyes, Giles is the reason that there’s even a funeral in the first place, so the idea of the family being remotely friendly with him is outright wrong. The woman explains everything while Giles nods looking over at the coffin, staring at the multi coloured roses resting on top. A few more words are exchanged between the lookalike and Giles, then to the funeral director and it’s time to begin.

The coffin is carefully removed from the hearse and the walk to Jenny Calendar’s final resting place begins.

Closely followed are the family, then everyone kind of awkwardly shuffles behind, heads bowed. As Giles passes the teens, he offers a reassuring smile that fails in its purpose when they catch his eye. His eyes aren’t bright, just empty.

Snyder has made sure that he’s right next to Giles the whole time, breathing down his neck, because that’ll really help matters. Presumably to keep an eye on the situation and wait for an excuse to get rid of him. The gang join the procession and find their spot, stood far enough away for family and friends to be at the graveside, but close enough that they can see everything that’s happening and Giles crystal clear. Buffy wants to be able to offer him some form of comfort and knows that he’ll be able to sense them nearby, hopefully that’ll be enough. Who’s she kidding, it won’t be. 

The minister, at least that’s what Buffy thinks they’re called, starts the service. Lots of generic stuff about heaven and hell, bringing religion into it seems weird. Ms Calendar couldn’t have cared less. She was all about computers and science, she didn’t have faith, unless she did and Buffy was once again, too self-absorbed to bother to notice. Ugh, the guilt is already overwhelming, does anymore need to be piled on? Apparently so. Willow as predicted is crying, soggy tissues balled up in her fists. She’d absolutely hero-worshipped Jenny and having her gone has been exceptionally difficult on her. She’d hidden it well for the most part, but this is just too much. Xander seems to be absolutely caught up in the moment too, and even Cordelia is teary.

The lookalike introduces herself as Kaiya and begins the eulogy. How vibrant Jenny was, how much of a joy she was to be around, how she made her family proud. Okay Buffy knows for a fact that the last one isn’t true. Willow had said that Jenny had been all but disowned by her family after what’d happened to her Uncle because she’d failed her mission. Which ultimately wasn’t Jenny’s fault because Buffy’s the one that slept with Angel and turned him back into Angelus. The speech continues briefly outlining about how Jenny died, how she was brave and kind and didn’t deserve to be taken from this world so young. Time seems to stop, and the words aren’t going in. She can’t remember exactly what was said, only the sound of silence when it was finished and the collective sniffles of the crowd afterwards. The minister gets back to the front and resumes talking about something or other. All the while Buffy can’t help but watch Giles closely.

He’s staring at the coffin. Can’t tear his eyes away. It’s so… small. Seems too small to fit Jenny. She’d always been herself larger than life. She’d never once looked small, not to him. Except for that one time that he’d commented on her being almost a foot shorter than him and she’d gone absolutely ballistic before standing on a chair to prove a point and be taller. Then she’d argued that the reason he was an idiot was because he was too tall, and the air was too thin up there so his brain couldn’t process information properly. How can Jenny, his marvellous Jenny be inside that box?

It seems that as soon as the service started, it’s over and they begin to lower her into the cold dampness of the earth. Giles wills himself to keep it together as the coffin descends into the ground. The final glimpse of it almost sends him over the edge and he recites his Watcher’s Oath in his head. Not surprisingly, that’s making matters worse, but he’s determined to keep it together anyway. There’ll be time for a good breakdown later, when people aren’t watching. He needs to be the Watcher, emotionless and detached, not Giles, the human being. As he takes a steadying breath when Jenny’s mother drops a handful of soil into the grave, Snyder turns to face him with a satisfied smirk.

After a few minutes, the crowd begins to disperse. The minister had said that there wasn’t going to be a wake, which meant that there was none of the awkward meeting people bit after that honestly, nobody likes. Kaiya makes her way back over to Giles, leaving her aunt to stand alone by her daughter’s grave weeping. They share a few words and Giles nods over to the Scoobies, as if pointing them out to Kaiya. The woman then shakes his hand again, with a promise of coming back in a few minutes, before walking towards the gang. Xander gently pries Willow off him so that she can wipe her nose before having to be sociable.

“Rupert tells me that you’re the kids that Jen got involved with,” Kaiya explains reaching her hand out to all of them in turn. “She often emailed, telling us about all of your adventures on the Hellmouth.” By the time she gets to Buffy she takes a step back, “You’re the Slayer?”

“Yeah,” Buffy replies keeping her face totally impassive. As much as can be expected when one has mascara stains all over their face. Kaiya nods and rests her hand on Buffy’s shoulder.

“It wasn’t your fault. Jen wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

“So Giles keeps saying.”

“He’s right, you’re not to blame.” That feels loaded and like there’s more to say but not to them. Kaiya pulls Willow into a hug and smiles. “She was so proud of you Willow, never forget that.” It makes Willow cry harder and Xander pulls her back into his arms, wiping away his own tears. Kaiya smiles sadly and wishes them well before re-joining her aunt. The whole encounter had not gone unnoticed by Snyder who was lurking by a tree nearby. Why can’t he get a life?

Giles spots the principal and shoots his best ‘Ripper’ glare at the man, watching him scuttle further away, casting the odd glance over his shoulder. How dare he make this any harder for them. Taking a deep breath, Giles moves toward the group, his heart aching as he sees the devastation on all of their faces. Willow practically jumps into his arms and begins howling, squeezing him tightly. He does his best to soothe her, even though it’s painfully obvious that he’s barely functional as it is, stroking her hair and whispering reassurances. After several long minutes she pulls back and starts to smooth his suit back into place.

“You look very handsome,” she sniffles fixing his jacket. “Sorry about the tear stains.” He smiles warmly and offered her his handkerchief before taking a step back and burying his hands in his pockets. Buffy turns to him and offers a nudge in the arm. If she goes in for a hug, the waterworks will start again, and we can’t have that.

“How you holding up?” She asks.

Giles shrugs, if he opens his mouth to even attempt and answer that question, all that will come out is a scream.

“Liar.” He smiles again turning back toward the grave. Kaiya and Jenny’s mother are still stood there, sharing their grief. Kaiya had said earlier that he should hang around so that Jenny’s mum could talk to him and he has a nasty feeling that it won’t be a particularly pleasant conversation. If that’s the case, then he’d rather the teens didn’t hear it. It seems that Kaiya is thinking the same thing as she waves him over. Somehow, he manages to place one foot in front of the other and joins the two women at Jenny’s graveside.

“I told the Slayer that it wasn’t her fault and that we don’t blame her at all,” Kaiya explains wiping her eyes. Giles nods in assent, it wasn’t Buffy’s fault. “Fate chose her to be the Slayer, she can’t control that. She’s a child; how can she be to blame?”

“Quite,” Giles whispers. Hopefully Buffy will have gotten some closure from that conversation.

“The same cannot be said for you Rupert,” Kaiya continues. Jenny’s mother looks up at him eyes filled with rage.

“You seemed like such a nice man when Janna spoke of you,” she starts, struggling to keep her voice under control. “You made her happy. Whenever we talked, she would tell me how happy you made her. But she was blinded by love, she didn’t see the true monster that you are.”

“You, Rupert Giles are part of an organisation that is archaic and cruel. You chose this for yourself. You chose to belong to a group of morally bankrupt men and women who are making the world a more dangerous place and contributing nothing for the greater good. You call yourself the Watcher to the Slayer, but you can’t be. If you’d monitored her and trained her better than she would never have let Angelus live, much less form a relationship with that beast. That is on you. You have not fulfilled your duties as Watcher, you’ve neglected her. Not just her but that poor girl Willow. All of them in fact,” Kaiya half sobs, arm wrapped tightly around her aunt’s shoulders. Giles stares, lips tightly pressed together. “Getting involved with Jen was selfish, you knew full well the risks your job brings, you knew that you would put her in harm’s way and look at the result. If she’d never met you then Jen wouldn’t have been distracted from her mission. She’d definitely be alive right now and not at the bottom of that grave to rot!” 

“My beautiful little girl is dead because of you!” Jenny’s mum spat. Heads turn towards the commotion; Buffy can feel her anger bubbling away beneath the surface. So that’s why they don’t blame her, they blame Giles. “You deserve nothing but pain and suffering for your part in her death. It’s your failures alone that caused Angelus to draw Janna into his twisted games. His evil is on you!” With the final words ringing out, Giles stands helpless as they leave. Struggling to breathe through the pain, tears held back by sheer willpower finally fall.

Xander had thankfully taken Willow back to the car with Cordelia so they’d not heard every word of that venomous spat. As Buffy moves closer to wrap her arms around Giles, a hand grabs her upper arm and spins her around. 

“See, unhinged,” Snyder taunts looking at Giles. “Why don’t you run along and get back to your friends.” She turns back to Giles, they’re not at school, surely he has no authority over them now. At Snyder’s warning glare, Buffy decides not to push it and reluctantly leaves, hating herself more with every step. She daren’t look back, afraid that what she’ll see will finally break her. 


	8. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings start applying so like... just be aware

After the service, the gang reconvened at Buffy’s house. The prospect of chocolate seemed like the best medicine for the day. Willow had finally cried herself into dehydration and was currently snuggled on the sofa wrapped in a super cosy blanket. Xander had made her a mug, more of a bucket really, of hot chocolate to cuddle. Buffy meanwhile had changed into pyjamas, deciding that she’s far too emotionally distracted to patrol without being seriously injured or killed. It’d be downright irresponsible. Instead, she can have comfort, warmth and crappy movies with her friends. Xander returns from the kitchen with another mountain of popcorn. They’ve not even turned the TV on yet, but he’d insisted on snacks.

“Fresh batch of deliciously salty exploded corn,” he announces taking a seat in between the girls. The silence stretches out for what feels like hours, the occasionally crunching as one of them stuffs ungodly amounts of popcorn in their face.

It’s after dark when the front door opens and Joyce returns. With a sad smile at the teens, she heads straight to the kitchen so as not to disturb them.

“Hey,” Buffy calls from the doorway having followed her mother. “How’s your day?”

“It was good. I take it Xander and Willow wanted to exploit the fridge,” Joyce replies with a smile. Buffy nods, quirking her lips into some semblance of grin before feeling herself getting teary again. There have been both too many tears shed today and not enough, all at the same time. “Oh honey, come here.” Joyce pulls Buffy into a big hug and holds her as she cries.

“It’s been a weird day,” Buffy explains once she’s regained composure.

“I’m sure it has. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just… I don’t like seeing everyone upset, and there’s nothing I can do which makes me upset, even though the whole thing is my fault and-”

“Slow down, how am I supposed to keep up with all that?” Joyce chuckles. “None of this is your fault. None of it. That poor teacher was killed and it’s awful, but it was not your fault.” Buffy nods and takes the proffered tissue from her mother’s hand. “As to seeing everyone upset, there’s not a lot you can do, it’s bound to happen. But it’s not up to you to make everyone feel better, especially when you’re not feeling good yourself.”

Buffy stops listening halfway through, her mind replaying the funeral over and over again in her head. She thought she’d done well, she thought she’d managed to stay strong. Instead she chickened out. She should’ve said, ‘fuck you Snyder!’ and gone to at least try and comfort Giles. He’d been stood there alone, all snotty and gross in public while being screamed at for something that is in no way his fault. And he just took it! Since when did Rupert Giles take shit from anyone?

“I keep thinking about Giles,” Buffy confesses. “He’d… he was so upset.”

“Well, she was his… partner,” Joyce dismisses Buffy’s concerns. She’s heard rumours that Mr Giles was responsible for the murder, it’s been a juicy bit of gossip that seems to still be circulating, so therefore there must be some truth in it. While Joyce is fairly sure that he’s not a cold-blooded killer, she can’t be totally certain. Buffy did say that he’d found the body and that would… well it would traumatise anyone. But what if he did do it and it’s all an act? He’s a big man, and if he lost his temper… The last thing her daughter needs to be worrying about is one of her teachers, regardless of how nice he’s always seemed to have been to them all. Joyce sighs, Mr Giles had looked very lost the other week when she saw him at the hospital, perhaps he does need someone to talk to. “I’m sure that Mr Giles’ friends and family are making sure he’ll be alright.”

“He only had Ms Calendar,” Buffy explains. Joyce is really growing tired of this conversation, and of Mr Giles’ name being thrown around so casually by the kids. Maybe it’s time she paid Mr Giles a visit, or better still, Principal Snyder. Actually no, that little ogre is deeply unpleasant.

“Mr Giles is a grown man and can take care of himself,” Joyce states. Buffy winces, he may be an adult, but he’s not very good at self-care and working through the hard stuff. He used to have Ms Calendar to talk through stuff with, although it’s obvious in retrospect that they didn’t communicate particularly effectively, what with the whole lying to each other about their past. They obviously talked about things, Ms Calendar was always chatting Giles’ ear off about something, just probably not the heavy stuff. The point is her mother’s being a little harsh. Why’s she got a bug up her butt about Giles having to be all lone ranger after his girlfriend was murdered? Buffy decides to quickly excuse herself, she’s this close to telling her mum all about why Giles is so important and why he is incapable of taking care of anything that isn’t a book.

“We should go check on Giles,” Buffy announces as she re-joins her friends.

“Not tonight,” Xander suggested. Buffy had told them about what was said after the service, and about how if it weren’t for that fucking cretin of a Principal, she’d have made sure that Giles got all the hugs he could ever need, even if he shrugged her off, she would use Slayer strength because everyone needs a hug, even stuffy English Librarians. Weird to think that she’d never hugged him before that night at the factory. It seems to be a habit now.

“Xander, what happened the last time he was alone after a traumatic experience?” Buffy reminds him. “I don’t fancy chasing after a kamikaze Giles again.”

“He promised me he wouldn’t do that again,” Willow explains. “I believe him.”

“Well I don’t! You didn’t see how close he was to… I almost lost him too.”

“Buff, that was barely four hours after Ms Calendar was killed and left in his bed, of course he wasn’t thinking with his head! This is different. It’s a funeral, not a murder. He’s probably at home, possibly a bar because we all know he likes a good drowning of the sorrows,” Xander reasons. “If I were him, I’d want to be left alone. We’ve been breathing down his neck for weeks, watching his every move. Willow knows his daily calorie intake; I know his routine better than I know my class timetable!”

“But we’re worried,” Buffy repeated. Since when did Xander have such strong opinions about Giles. “Ms Calendar was killed, he’s not only blaming himself, but being blamed for it! There’s also Angel on the loose, a vampire cult and a Hellmouth to guard, famous for its crappy timing. There’s no getting a day off! It doesn’t stop, it never stops!”

“Over identify much?” Xander quips. As the Slayer shoots him a murderous glare he continues. “And how is us showing up at his apartment getting big with the mopey gonna help? It won’t. He’s not happy Buffy and he’s not going to be, especially today.”

“Xander’s right Buffy,” Willow adds. “Maybe we should leave him alone, just for today.” 

“Fine,” Buffy admits defeat, sulking on the sofa. Maybe she could sneak out when they’re sleeping and go to see Giles later.

“Buffy, I’m not trying to be an asshole,” Xander explains. “I just don’t think crowding him is going to help. I’ll go and see him bright and early tomorrow and we can resume our regularly scheduled Watcher watching. He’ll be fine.”

“If he’s not, it’s on you,” Buffy hissed before storming off upstairs. She knows she’s being a complete bitch, but they didn’t see what she saw. They didn’t see how lost he was. 

Xander’s right. How pissed was she when Giles was nagging and being all overbearing? It’s only fair to let him have some space, give him the same courtesy in return. Why does she care so much? It’s not like Giles is family, he’s just her watcher. They can send her a new one, they’ve probably got armies of them. It would’ve been so much easier if she hadn’t started seeing him as anything other than a textbook with arms. 

*****

The sun may be out, and the sky may be blue but it’s far too early to be out of bed by Xander’s standards, at least for a Saturday anyway. What kind of freak of nature is up before midday? Still, he made a promise and he’ll be damned if he’s going to break it.

Giles’ apartment building is nice, only a handful of neighbours who seem pleasant enough in the very brief encounters he’s had, it’s got a cute little courtyard with the greenest trees Xander’s ever set eyes upon, fairy lights and everything. Maybe one day he can live somewhere like this.

He hops down the steps into the courtyard with a practiced ease, despite only being here a couple of times previously, and heads to the familiar door. Huh, that’s weird, the curtain is drawn over the little window just to the side. Giles is having a lie in perhaps. Good, Xander decides it’s about time that the Watcher got some proper rest. Knocking on the door, Xander steps back waiting for his friend to grumble about how his Saturday morning was interrupted by a fussing teenager. For all the mumbling, the boy is sure that Giles doesn’t actually mind them dropping by deep down under all the layers of stuffiness.

After a couple of minutes, Xander knocks again. He must be a heavy sleeper, or maybe he went out. No, he can’t have because the grey rust-bucket was outside. Spare key time. He pulls the key out of his pocket and turns it in the lock, relieved by the clicking. Angel can’t get in; and he was fairly certain that Giles had gone straight home after the service yesterday. But what if Angel had been waiting? Does the spell work if the occupant is dead? Panic fully sets in as he reached for the doorknob with a sweaty palm. Something isn’t right. Jeez, it smells like a bar in here, all booze and cigarette smoke. Giles doesn’t smoke, does he? He calls out, “Giles?”

With no response, Xander sprints up the stairs to the loft dreading what he might find. Nothing, it doesn’t look like anyone has slept in the bed for weeks. That’s weird, he might mention that to Willow. Leaning over the banister, Xander closes his eyes and tries to think, mapping the whole flat out in his head. Shit. Where is he? Where could he be? Think brain think, oh! There’s a spare room or the bathroom, has to be in one of those. Refusing to waste another second, he clumsily hurries back down the stairs, jumping the last few, stopping dead in his tracks…

“Oh, thank God,” he breathes.

There, curled up on the sofa is one, Rupert Giles. How did he not see that earlier? Xander dropped to his side, wincing as his knees connect with the hardwood floor, resting a hand on his shoulder. Warm and still breathing, snoring ever so slightly to be precise, so that’s of the good, way good in fact. No blood, no sign of broken well… anything which puts Xander’s mind at ease. Taking a quick look at the flat, he meanders to a simple conclusion; Giles had a one-man party last night. Fucking fantastic. It’s not the fact that Giles felt the need to drown his sorrows that’s the problem, they’d half expected it, it’s the fact he clearly took it too far. Instead of having a couple of drinks, it seems like the guy downed the bottle in one. Carelessly, he begins tapping his friend’s face to wake him up. Giles’ brow furrows and he groans trying to get away from whatever is trying to force him to re-join the land of the living, why can’t it just leave him in peace? “Wakey wakey Giles.” It takes a few moments for the Watcher to actually move.

“Time’s it?” He grumbles trying to get up. Xander nearly does a double take at the change in accent from prim and proper, uptight British guy to total ruffian. How can Giles, tweed extraordinaire produce such sounds? He is so telling Buffy and Willow.

“A little after ten thirty,” Xander replies watching Giles struggle to get into a sitting position on the sofa. Giles got himself into that state, he can get himself out of it. He’s still wearing the suit from yesterday, sans jacket and shoes, only now it’s rumpled so badly that a dry cleaner would have to work miracles to make it look as crisp as it did the day before. “Had a good nap?”

“How’d you get in?” What the fuck is Xander doing in his flat?

“Used my key. But you already knew that.” Giles merely grunts in response. “See this is why one of us was gonna come and check up on you. We thought you’d get your wild party weasel on after yesterday and I bet you’re really revelling in how swell an idea that was right now.”

“Less volume would be nice; my head is splitting.” Ah, Mr Giles is back in the building. Xander does a quick count of the empty bottles he can see scattered around. Perhaps being as non-sympathetic as possible will be the best battle tactic. Giles doesn’t do emotions, he doesn’t do pity parties, he does sarcasm, humour and flat out ignorance. Those are his chosen coping mechanisms. Why doesn’t Xander try that but in the form of jokes and acting like it’s no big deal? You know, the guy thing. Giles is a guy, just an old one. That works. Right? He could step in and do the things that need to be done, it’s not like Giles is in much of a state to fight back. 

“Two and a half bottles of whiskey will do that. Honestly, I’m impressed you didn’t choke on your own barf after that much.”

“Hopefully still drunk,” Giles mutters to no one in particular. Xander heads to the kitchen ignoring the empty glasses and randomly abandoned shoe, to get the man some water. He’s going to need a heck of a lot to sober up after that little adventure. That and maybe a bucket. There’s got to be one under the sink. He sets the pint glass on the coffee table and the mop bucket on the floor between the Watcher’s legs. He reckons the man will start throwing his guts up the second he takes a sip of that cool refreshing H2O. “If you could stop looming… that’d be marvellous.”

“No way, I’m enjoying the warm fuzzy feeling of moral superiority right now, is this how you feel all the time?”

“God, I hope not,” Giles grunts massaging his temples. Xander crosses his arms and feels his resolve start to fade. “Are you just going to stand there being morally superior all day?”

“Pretty much,” Xander replies with a beaming smile. “Unless I’m totally convinced that you’re not in fact drowning in self-pity. Gotta say, that glare thing you got going on there, yeah with the eyebrow, far less convincing in that outfit.” Giles shoots him another venomous glare which unfortunately fails to be effective. Having decided he’s had quite enough of the boy, Giles clambers to his feet, time to wash the filth off.

The whole world starts tilting and distorting, fading to black. Xander thinks fast and grabs the Watcher to steady him. Geez, was he always this heavy? “Where d’you think you’re going big guy? Easy there. Don’t wanna have to explain to the Buffster that her Watcher has another concussion because he’s being stupid.”

“Xander, do shut up,” Giles snaps. It sounds pretty pathetic, but Xander does in fact shut up.

“Where’re you going?”

“Shower.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“No.”

“You’re going, anyway aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You want a hand?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Okay then.” Xander lets go of his friend and miraculously, Giles remains upright. If he can get to the bathroom, then he can collapse in a heap. He knew it was going to end badly when he started drinking yesterday. Nothing good has ever come out of drinking whisky. Tequila on the other hand… oh Christ no, even thinking about it is enough to make his stomach flip. _Don’t throw up with an audience, you’re never going to hear the end of this already, no need for that little added extra._

It takes much longer than necessary, but Giles finally manages to get into the bathroom and close the door. There’s no lock on the door but it’s doubtful there’s going to be any interruptions, Xander won’t want to be scared for life, so that’s something. Daring to look at his reflection, Giles grimaces, fucking hell he looks like shit. This is absolutely mortifying. Xander has not only seen him looking like this but also smelling like a troll. Fuck sake.

There’s a knock at the door and Giles feels like cursing the boy. He really doesn’t need a chaperone and there’s no way on this planet, nor possible reason that Xander needs to see his naked arse.

“Brought you clean clothes,” Xander yells through the door. I’m leaving them out here, but I’ll be in the kitchen making breakfast.”

“M’kay,” Giles hollers back, instantly regretting being quite so loud. That was actually a good bit of foreplaning on Xander’s part, he genuinely hadn’t thought that far ahead and has no desire to dash up the stairs to get changed in nothing but a towel. That would be beyond humiliating.

It’s almost an hour later that Giles emerges from the bathroom. Xander’s jaw drops, the guy looks human again. Clean shaven, hair combed, no longer smelling like a demon. Most startlingly, he’s wearing jeans! Actual jeans made of denim, not suit trousers. Xander hadn’t looked when he raided Giles’ wardrobe, literally opened a drawer and pulled out the first things he found without giving it any thought. What he wouldn’t give for a camera right now.

“Check it out, the Watcher’s got style!” Xander exclaims with a goofy grin. “Cordelia will be stunned.”

“What on Earth are you… oh?” Giles realises then throwing a glare at Xander. His head is still splitting, and he very much wants to curl up on the floor and die, but at least he feels clean now.

“Red tab 501s?” Giles stares blankly for a moment, his brain needing a minute to catch up. What’s Xander rambling about? Oh, his jeans. Right. Why is that important? Why wouldn’t he have jeans? Everything is slightly blurry, at first he thinks it’s the hangover trying to mess with him, but then pokes himself in the eye when reaching for his glasses. Xander stands up and hands him the specs, biting his lip to muffle the giggling. Giles ignores the boy and looks around his flat feeling his heart swell. Xander must’ve cleaned everything up while he was in the bathroom.

“Xander… you didn’t have to,” he starts.

“Pfft,” Xander waves his hand dismissively. “I can be useful every now and then. Why don’t you sit down before you fall down, and I’ll serve up the Saturday morning Xander special of toast and tea? Figured you wouldn’t be too hungry, but you need to at least nibble something.” Giles shuffles over to the sofa dumbfounded. He had no idea that Xander was capable of such kindness, especially when it’s undeserved. He doesn’t deserve this.

Breakfast is served and the pair eat in silence. Xander’s tea making skills aren’t actually half bad, Willow’s probably been teaching him. Still far too milky but certainly better than any of Buffy’s attempts. Once all evidence of breakfast has been cleared up, washed up and tidied away, Xander flops next to Giles on the sofa, must be time to talk.

“You know why I’m really here don’t you?” He asks. Giles nods keeping his eyes focused on his bookshelves. The words are making his head spin, but he can remember their order with almost perfect accuracy. “And you, even hungover and feeling like crap are still the smartest guy I’ve ever met. Which means you know what we’ve been doing the past couple weeks. See, I know you don’t wanna talk about it because British people are too repressed and all ‘carry on’ but Giles… I’m here if you need anything. We all are.”

“Yes, I-I was aware,” Giles stammers. “B-but there really is no need. I-I’m perfectly alright a-and capable of remaining so.”

“Okay then,” Xander confirms. That’s very much the end of that conversation then. He’s said his piece, proved to Giles that it’s not empty words and not needed to get overly emotional. See, Buffy would’ve dragged everything up, made him talk but that’s not how it works, at least not with Giles. You sit there, have a cuppa, keep it brief and that’s it. Short and sweet, nothing too much because it just ends in tears. There is no problem in this universe or any other that is too big or small to warrant a good cuppa tea. “Fancy getting a bit of fresh air?”

“Alright then, but I’m not being conned into buying doughnuts again,” Giles jokes with a smile. Xander feels his own grin grow. That’s a proper smile, one that makes his eyes brighter and it’s such a relief to see on the Watcher’s face.

“Come on big guy, it was only one time!”

*****

“Xander Harris, reporting from Watcher watch,” Xander announces entering Buffy’s bedroom.

“How bad?” Buffy asks tentatively, barely concealing a grimace. Xander’s in for a world of trouble if it’s bad. But then again, she could’ve just snuck out and prevented any problems last night and Xander wouldn’t have had to go over this morning.

“Eh, not bad. G-man had a little shindig for one, but it was fine. Nothing bad, just a bit of a tipple.” Part of him feels bad for lying, but after talking to Giles and spending actual time with him, Xander now understands that Giles’ attitude is about so much more than saving face, it’s actually protecting them. The thought of upsetting them because of his actions or words terrifies the Watcher, so he chooses to put on a brave face and keep business as usual. In some weird way, it kind of makes sense, at least to Xander. Also giving the man some privacy to grieve. In his opinion, while not ideal, he’s not overly worried. Giles bounces back from everything and it’ll take time, but he’ll get there. This time is no different.

“He was drunk?” Willow whimpered, eyes wide like saucers. “Giles… and booze… it doesn’t end well! Remember last time!”

“Relax,” Xander soothes giving her a brief hug. “He was okay.”

“Was he drunk?” Buffy demands. Giles’ default seems to be crawling inside a bottle and she’s not going to let him make it a habit.

“He just got out the shower when I got there,” Xander explains. “We had breakfast, talked, he’s okay. I wouldn’t say he’s good but he’s dealing.” Willow nods and lets out a shaky breath. That’s something, it could’ve been so much worse. What if Xander had found him dead, or hurt or what if he hadn’t been there at all? What ifs aren’t important, they aren’t real, they haven’t happened. Xander says Giles is okay so that’s good. “And Will, you won’t believe it! Giles has jeans!”

“No, he doesn’t, his closet consists of tweed with some really gross scarves,” Buffy snorts. “There is no way Giles, lover of beige knows what denim is.”

“I swear to god, the man was wearing 501s and a t shirt.”

“Actual 501s? Red tab? You sure that was Giles?”

“Yup. Said he’s had them longer than we’ve been alive and they’re still good as new.”

“I bet he looked good,” Willow giggles, smiling at the mental Giles she’s created. Fresh out of the shower with wet hair, blue Levi’s, vintage t shirt… 

“Will if you don’t stop right there, I’ll feed you to a Hell hound,” Buffy warns covering her ears. Now is so not the time for Willow to get heart eyes over the Watcher… again.

“What? I’m just saying! He’s got a nice-”

“WILLOW!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, sorry it's been a while. It's been a bit hectic and I hit a lethargy moment the other day when editing this one. Please don't hate me. Notes on this one: 
> 
> Yes I know Joyce is being a cow, yes I know Buffy is being a bit extra and I am trying to be nice to Xander... I just don't like him. 
> 
> Hope you liked it and if you've stuck with it this far... you deserve a medal <3


	9. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parts of Episode 19, IOHEFY

“So, for next time, read the chapters on information grouping and binary coding,” Willow informed her class. A few heads turn toward the doorway, but she remains focused. Whatever it is, it can wait until she’s finished teaching. “I bet you’ll think coding is pretty cool. I mean, if you find two-digit multi-stacked conversions and primary number clusters a big hoot.” Her smile grows as the class laughs at her joke. That one took a while to think of and it’s nice to be rewarded for the effort. The bell starts ringing and the class exits the room hastily. Another successful lesson over. Perhaps she should consider a career in teaching. Putting a book back on the shelf, Willow notices what the class must had earlier. “Giles! I made them laugh. Did you hear? I did the joke thing.”

“Yes, yes, so it seems. I-I mean, uh... uh, you did indeed. Good-good show,” he’s stammering. He doesn’t do that unless there’s something wrong or he’s thinking really hard about something. “I-I just stopped by to see if you needed any assistance, but you seem to have things quite under control.”

“Well, I had good lesson plans. Ms Calendar had them on her computer,” she explains nodding to the machine.

“Yes. Yes, she was very um... uh… dedicated,” Giles spaces out, lost in thought. _Is that really the best you can do Rupert?_ _You loved the woman like you’ve never loved anything before and the best you can do is dedicated?_

“And I found a bunch of files and internet sites on paganism and magic and stuff,” Willow adds, keen to change the sombre mood. She’s been practising some simple spells and incantations, finding an escape from the bleakness of the world in magic. It’s super cool, she’s been waiting for the right time to tell him, he’ll probably be so proud of her for taking initiative to learn magic.

“Oh?” That gets his attention.

“Yes, it’s really interesting.” And Giles is off in the mysterious caverns of his head again. Why isn’t he happy for her? Is it because of Ms Calendar? Surely, he’d be happy that she’s got extracurricular interests besides run-of the mill Scooby Gang hijinks. “And, uh... I found this in her drawer. She told me it was a rose quartz. And it has healing powers. I thought she’d want you to have it.”

“Thank you, Willow, that’s um...” he swallows thickly. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” Taking the necklace in hand, Giles makes as quick an exit from the room as possible. There’s no need to make things awkward by having a cry over a bloody necklace.

Willow watches his retreating back with sad eyes. He’d seemed to be doing so much better the past couple days. Maybe it’s an off day, everyone gets them. Still, it could’ve been too much too soon. What if she’s made him even more depressed? What if she shouldn’t have told him about it? What if he goes and is all sad in the dark, musty library all by himself? No, there’s classes to teach. She can check in with him at lunch, she can sit and have a cup of tea with him like they always do.

*****

“It was just with the-the couple you encountered the other night Buffy. The janitor remembered everything. He knew he’d killed this poor woman, but he had no idea why. They-they had no intimate relationship,” Giles rattles off quickly, grabbing books off his desk and jogging over to the book cage.

“What about the gun? Did you find it?” Willow asks. 

“No, no. No, the police, everybody- we-we searched high and low,” he continues. “I think it’s very clear what’s happening here.”

“Fill me in then. Cause I’ve read the book, seen the movie and I’m still fuzzy about what’s going on,” Xander begs leaning on the edge of the book cage while Giles does whatever the heck it is Librarians do. 

“It’s Jenny.”

“What?” Buffy has to try and hide her disbelief. There had better be a logical reason why the ghost of Ms Calendar is haunting the school because she can’t think of one. 

Xander scratches at his head nervously, “You think she’s the ghost?”

“Don’t you see?” Giles implores them. He sounds almost desperate for them to understand. As usual his brain is firing off at a million miles an hour, just this time not the right way. “Well, she-she died here under tragic circumstances and now she’s trapped.”

Willow frowns, “But what about the gun? I mean, Angel didn’t shoot Ms Calendar.”

“The gun is insignificant. It’s the violence of the thing that matters.”

“I don’t know. These fights these couple keep having- it’s sort of... specific,” Buffy reasons.

Willow completely agrees with her friend, “She’s right. It’s a pattern that doesn’t fit with the way Ms Calendar died.” Whatever’s going on, it’s almost certainly not Ms Calendar. She feels bad for raising her voice at Giles, but he just isn’t listening to what they’re saying.

Giles pauses in his office doorway, “Yes, well I uh, I appreciate your thoughts on the matter. I... in fact I... well I encourage you to to-to always uh... challenge me uh when you feel it’s appropriate. You should never be cowed by authority.” He practically spins around on the spot to add, “Except of course in this instance when I am clearly right, and you are clearly wrong.” The gang watch the Librarian gathering resources at his desk. What the fuck is going on with him?

Knowing a lost cause when they see it, the teens decide to leave him to it. Guess the main brain of the operation is benched for this one.

Willow shuts the door to her classroom and sits behind the desk, “This is freaky. I don’t remember seeing Giles be this weird.” They need to have another Scooby Gang meeting at this rate.

“I know. He’s usually ‘investigate things from every boring angle guy’. Now he’s ‘I cling on to my one lame idea’ guy. What gives?”

“He misses her. He can’t think,” Buffy explains. It’s painfully obvious and making her feel increasingly crappy by the moment. She sighs, “Just a little more fallout from my love life.”

“Okay but this ghost stuff is something else,” Willow starts tapping away at the keyboard. “Let me do a cross check on other shootings at the school.” There’s time to wallow later, but right now they have a ghost to find and remove before anyone else gets hurt.

*****

“GILES!” Willow screams, struggling against the force of the portal. A door crashes and she can hear someone sprinting down the hall. Please be Giles, please be Giles.

“Willow?” He cries sounding slightly unsure.

“GILES! GILES!” She grabs the railing with all her might, there’s no way she’s going down.

“Where are you?” he calls to her sounding frantic, feet crashing against the floor in a desperate attempt to reach her.

“Please, help! Help me!” Giles pauses for a nanosecond to survey the situation. What the bloody hell is that?! Practically falling up the stairs he grabs her hand, pulling her out of the portal. The pressure is easing up and Giles puts his full strength into getting her safe. As she gets free, they tumble back down the stairs, Giles shielding Willow as best as he can. He lands on the ground with a grunt, he’s getting far too old to be rolling down a flight of stairs, Willow landing square on top of him.

Clambering up the stairs, Giles checks that the portal has closed, and the danger is past. Willow watches his foot slip up a couple of steps and lets out a small yelp when she thinks he’s going to smack his face of the edge of a stair. At Willow’s cry, he quickly crouches down in front of her, “Are you alright?”

Willow feels Giles’ large hands on her upper arms holding her while he checks her over. It’s strangely comforting. The warmth of his body next to hers. She rests her hands on his knees to keep him close. What the hell was that? So much for her lousy idea of performing an exorcism. They need him to be the grown up and figure out what to do. “Giles, Jenny could never be this mean.”

Giles nods sadly, “Yes... I know.” He sits back, letting go of Willow and fiddling with his fingers. “It’s- it’s not her is it?”

Willow shakes her head slightly, her grip tightening on his legs, “I’m sorry.” The hope in his voice was crushing. Part of her wished that it was Ms Calendar, at least then Giles would’ve been right, and he wouldn’t have looked quite as lost as he does now. She’s never seen anyone look so… empty. This must be what Buffy described when she was telling them what had happened the night the Ms Calendar had died. The bell tolls overhead, the clock has struck midnight. Suddenly remembering why she’s here, Willow leaps to her feet, clawing at Giles’ arm, “Oh God, oh!”

Giles finally looks up. Willow’s fearful tone is enough to remind him that there is in fact an evil spirit intent on causing mayhem and chaos in the building that needs to be taken care of. Time to switch back to Watcher mode and stop being pathetic. “Careful up here!”

*****

Giles resumes his tea making. He’s kind of glad that Joyce is out, it’d be awkward to have to explain his presence. “The good news is, none of your girls were shot,” Giles announces as he stirs the tea. If one of them had been shot and killed because of this spirit that he was refusing to give his attention to, he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself. “Well, we’ve established based on the parallels and-and Buffy’s visions, that it’s James’s spirit.”

Willow inquires, “So, what do we do Giles? About James?”

Giles clears his throat, switching to research mode, “Well he’s obviously reliving the night of the Sadie Hawkins dance when he killed Ms Newman. It’s-it’s common enough for a spirit to do this, to recreate a tragedy.”

“Hey if Sunnydale high shuts down forever, do we automatically graduate?” Cordelia blurted out. It’s a fair question. She’s so sick of the tragedy masks and sadness in the room, lightening the mood seems the only way to stay sane. 

Xander stares at Cordelia with an expressionless face before turning to Giles, “but why what does he want?” Cordelia’s words actually start being processed by his brain. “Actually, that’s an interesting point.”

Giles ignores them, “he’s trying to... resolve whatever issues are keeping him in limbo. I mean, what exactly those are, I-I’m not...”

“He wants forgiveness,” Buffy interrupts leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. Something about this James guy is hitting a little too close to home for her comfort. It’s like looking in a mirror, only a gross horrible mirror that shows you decomposed corpses. 

“Yes. I imagine he does,” Giles agrees, brow furrowing. He gets up and stands in front of Buffy. “But when James possesses people, they act out exactly what happened that night. So, he’s experiencing a form of purgatory instead.” Willow observes Giles carefully. It’s like he’s zoned out, lost in his head as he tries to articulate his thoughts. She’s always found it really strange to watch because he becomes completely unaware of his surroundings, totally engrossed in whatever is going on in his head. “I mean he’s doomed to kill his Ms Newman over and over and over again, and... forgiveness is impossible.”

“Good. He doesn’t deserve it,” Buffy stated. Something in the Slayer’s eye warns Giles that this issue is entirely personal. There is subtext here that is rapidly becoming… text. He makes a mental note to confront her later once the issue has been resolved. 

“To forgive is an act of compassion Buffy. It’s-it’s... It’s not done because people deserve it. It’s done because they need it,” he chose his words with precision. With any luck, Buffy will have listened, and his words will have helped her on a more personal level with whatever it is that she’s getting so angry about.

“No.” The defiance in Buffy’s tone makes Giles cringe. “James destroyed the one person he loved the most in a moment of blind passion. And that’s not something you forgive. No matter why he did what he did. And no matter if he knows now that it was wrong and selfish and stupid. It is just something that he is gonna have to live with.”

“He can’t live with it Buff. He’s dead,” Xander reminds her. Buffy stomps off with a huff, she’s really not in the mood for this conversation. They don’t get it. They just don’t understand that it’s not that simple. Giles watches her go sadly, there is something seriously wrong with his Slayer and if he could stop being so selfish for thirty seconds, he’d probably know what it was. He should’ve been paying more attention to her instead of wallowing in self-pity.

“Okay over identify much?” Cordelia jokes. Willow throws her a distasteful look and decides that for now they need to focus on the matter at hand. 

“So, what do we do next? Do we go in again?”

“Well not now. No, the uh... the spirit is too angry, too-too powerful,” Giles explains switching back to Watcher mode. “No, we have to work out exactly how and if this thing can be defeated.”

*****

“Everything seems normal. Not a snake not a wasp,” Willow chirps with a grin as the trio enter the library.

“Yup. school can open again tomorrow,” Cordelia confirms with a smile.

Xander sighs, “Explain to me again how that’s a good thing?”

“Drawing a blank.”

Giles had been pacing lost in thought. He stops and strides to his office, swinging off the doorframe slightly. Willow watches him with a frown, the smile disappearing off her face. Something is way off with him today. Not only did she almost get an emotional response out of him this morning, but he very nearly had a breakdown in front of her earlier that evening when he realised that it wasn’t Jenny’s ghost. There’s going to have to be another meeting, and soon.

Inside Giles’ office, Buffy is curled up on the armchair wrapped in her jacket. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. Luckily, only the lamp is on and she can hide in the shadows.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asks softly. He’d heard the gunshot of course, and in that moment had been fully ready to charge into the building to reach her. Whatever happened tonight, there’s no way that Buffy share it with him right now. Patience is a virtue.

“James picked me. I guess... I guess he was the one he could relate to. He was so sad.”

“Well...” he sits down nervously next to Buffy, not quite sure what to say. It seems whatever he comes up with won’t give her any comfort. “They can both rest now.”

“I still... part of me Just doesn’t understand why she would forgive him.”

“Does it matter?”

“No. I guess not.” Giles smiles tenderly; despite the fact his heart is breaking for her. He’s starting to understand now. Buffy’s whole bitter attitude is because she lost Angel and now a demon that wears his face is terrorising her and killing people. She loved Angel more than he’s ever seen anyone love anything, probably too much, and now he’s gone. Most likely forever and she blames herself because if they hadn’t been involved then he wouldn’t have lost his soul. How was she supposed to know? How could she possibly have known? In truth, he hadn’t really given the impact of it all on her much thought. 

He remembers the night Buffy fought the Judge vividly. Arguably some of the most stressful nights of his life. They’d sat in his car and he’d explained that it was in no way, shape or form her fault and assumed, like a total fool, that that’d be the end of it. It’s high enough time he started focusing his energies on his Slayer instead of himself.

*****

“Hey,” Willow greets her childhood bestie with a serious look on her face that makes Xander start to sweat nervously. That’s the look of needing to have a serious conversation. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure, please don’t tell me it’s about me checking out those books on paganism again because I can explain-”

“You know Giles?”

“Tall, British. Kinda grumpy? Yeah I know him?” Xander jokes. Willow’s not laughing.

“I’m really worried about him.”

“And I keep telling you girls to lay off and leave him to his books.”

“This isn’t funny!” Willow snaps, voice trembling slightly. Xander motions her to follow him and they head to Ms Calendar’s classroom. The last thing they need is an audience.

“Look, I don’t understand what the big deal is?” Xander says closing the door behind them and sitting on the edge of the desk. Willow simply looked at him sadly, eyes pleading him to listen. “C’mon Will, we know you’ve got the hots for the big guy. I get it, he’s smart, well mannered, sarcastic, the biggest book nerd alive, but this is going too far.”

“It’s so not about that! Get your head out of the gutter or I’ll cut it off with a ruler!” Xander decides to shut up and bows his head in silent apology. The last thing he ever wants to do is piss Willow off. She takes a deep breath and starts explaining what happened the other day. Everything from the rose quartz to falling down the stairs. Xander listens, really listens giving Willow his complete attention. He supposes that perhaps Willow makes a fair argument, it’s not necessarily a display normal behaviour, but he sticks by the guy code. No need to interfere unless it’s apocalyptic. Once Willow has finished her speech, she looks to Xander with a sheepish expression. “Maybe I’m being particularly paranoid, but it looks like he’s really not doing so good. A-and neither’s Buffy. I mean did you see how she was about what James did?”

“You’ve got a point,” Xander agrees. “Not about the big guy but definitely the Slaymaster General. Why don’t we go for a night of tearing it up at the Bronze?”

“Buffy’s not feeling in the mood to party,” Willow retorts. Bronzing won’t cut it this time. It never works and yet he still suggests it. “And how is that going to help Giles?”

“Priority check? Will, I know you’re wigged about our resident Brit but if Buffy’s not with it a hundred and ten percent then she could end up as the next item on the vampire menu. We can’t let that happen.”

“No but-”

“So, it’s settled then? Awesome!” Xander claps her on the back and jumps to his feet. “Look, I get you’re concerned but there’s no need to be. Giles is a grown up and he’s been taking care of himself for a really long time. Like since the Jurassic period.”

“He wasn’t even interested when I told him I’m learning magic in my free time,” Willow grumbles casting her eyes to the floor. The penny drops for Xander.

“That’s what this is really about isn’t it?” He observed. “You’re upset because Ms Calendar’s gone, and Giles hasn’t asked you if you’re okay.” Willow can feel the crimson rising up her cheeks. It’s not solely the fact that she’s not really had any proper alone time with the Watcher. But when Xander’s two brain cells do decide to function, it makes him annoyingly smart. “He’s not ignoring you Will, you probably just caught him at a bad time. If it really bothers you that much, why don’t you just talk to him?”

“Because you’ve seen how well starting any conversation about Ms Calendar goes,” Willow concludes. Every single time one of them brought it up, even accidentally, Giles would ignore the topic and remove himself from the situation. In the end, they just gave up even trying to talk about it. “I just want things to go back to how they were. I don’t want Mr Mopey all the time, and I don’t want Buffy to be all blame girl.”

“None of those things are in your control Will,” Xander reminds her. “You can’t just magic people’s feeling’s away because they’re not doing what you want.” He nudges his friend in the shoulder and gets a small smile in return. That’s his Willow. “I gotta go, there’s a nap in English awaiting me and you Miss Rosenberg, have a class to teach.”

Willow bids him farewell and turns on the computer. Magicking people’s feelings would be tricky, plus, that raises a few ethical questions. But what if she could make them smile by doing something cool with magic. Nothing big and scary, just like a firework or something? It wouldn’t have to be a big smile either, nor would it need to reverse all evil nasties. Just something to give them a tiny respite from all the doom and gloom. Time to hit the net and see if Ms Calendar knew anything about how to make that happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one's a little later than I wanted it to be and I am very sorry. The wonderful winter blues have hit and are... not fun. Also, real life is a lot and 4am is no longer spent editing, instead reading law reports and creating case summaries which is actually really bloody annoying and tedious. 
> 
> I blame Mum for planting these ideas in my head the other day when we were discussing later chapters, but I've begun to realise a few things about Giles, that are totally the writers' fault. The inconsistency of his character. Like how in S1 he's all "OMG ANGEL OFFERED TO GET ME A BOOK! I WANT TO HAVE HIS BABIES!" and then Ethan was like, "snivelling, tweed clad guardian of the Slayer and her kin, I think not" less than a season later. Yeah... it's frustrating but Rupert Giles owns my heart by being a lovable berk. Except in S7... 
> 
> Anyway, I digress. Thank you to everyone showing this story love. I will get around to responding to you, it's taking a while to get stuff done and you would not believe how crappy my Wi-Fi is. Seriously, almost £7,000 on student accommodation and there's no internet most of the time, with primarily online classes/resources... it's a joke.


	10. Planning

Giles roamed the empty streets of Sunnydale needing to escape the suffocation of being indoors. Not out on patrol, just out for a walk. He knew he was being reckless; he knew he was being stupid by being out here all alone but if he stays in the flat for a second longer… he’d be tempted to pick up the bottle of whisky again which would be best case scenario. Obviously, he knows the areas Buffy frequents on patrol and avoids them. He doesn’t want to interfere with her Slaying or get her hurt because his presence distracts her.

  


“Hey Giles,” Angelus sneers emerging from a side street. “It’s been a while. How’re you doing?” Giles reaches for the stake in his back pocket, but Angelus is quicker, lunging at the Watcher and twisting his arm painfully. “Gee, is that really necessary? I’m not here to hurt you, I just wanna talk.” He releases the Watcher and pats him gently on the back.

  


“I have nothing to say to you,” Giles snaps straightening up, hands balled tightly into fists. If this monster lays another finger on him, he’ll rip it’s head off with his bare hands.

  


“C’mon now, that’s no way to talk to an old friend is it? You’re supposed to have manners.” At Giles’ stony glare, Angelus laughs. This is too easy. “Did Buffy ever tell you what happened the other night at the school?” That seems to get no reaction, darn. “I thought she hadn’t. Typical, leaving you outta the loop. Not that you can blame her, it’s not like you’ve been much use to her recently.”

  


Giles keeps his gaze fixed on the vampire, waiting for his opportunity. “She kissed me. Yeah, I know, it was revolting. I mean, the whole schoolgirl thing was kind of a turn on at first, but now it’s just a billboard sign screaming ‘lack of experience’.” Without hesitation, Giles aims a punch at the vampire, only to be flipped to the ground in one swift movement. “Gosh Giles, I thought we were friends. Now do you want me to tell you about Buffy or not?”

  


“If you’ve hurt her in any way-”

  


“You’ll what? End up on your ass again?” Angelus taunts. Giles gets back to his feet. The vampire is too strong for him to take in a fight, especially now he doesn’t have a stake. “No, Buffy the clingy little bitch, thought that I was her boyfriend because of those spirits. It was quite something, the way she was so hopeful that he miraculously came back for her. It made the look on her face even funnier when I left.” Giles barely contains his temper. It’s taking every fibre in his being to restrain himself. Angelus considers the watcher carefully, there’s much better ways of winding the man up. “Why don’t I walk you home? It’s not safe to be out this late Giles, you of all people should know that.”

  


Giles puts one foot in front of the other and starts walking. How he can get his legs to cooperate is completely beyond him. It doesn’t seem to matter because Angelus is revelling in the palpable discomfort of the Watcher. Giles decides to stick to silence, there’s no point giving the menace ammunition when Angelus is known for using words as a weapon. It’s fine, he can do this. Just walk in the direction of home, there’s a crossbow just inside the front door and then you can kill the bastard. Patience. Keep it together for a little while longer and then you can end this. But what if Buffy isn’t ready for him to be dust yet? What if there’s a way to get Angel back and he dusts the vampire out of revenge? She’d absolutely loathe him, probably never talk to him again. He can’t do that. At least if he’s at home, Angelus can’t get in. There’ll be no surprises inside the flat this time. But what about outside? There could be Buffy’s body outside his front door? _Stop it Rupert, stop overthinking everything as per usual._

  


Angelus grins like a Cheshire cat at the inner turmoil of the Watcher. He can literally smell the fear, which is smart. Originally, Angelus had intended to kill the man tonight, but it’s funnier to mess with him. Plus, it’ll really grind Buffy’s gears and he never tires of that. “Giles buddy, it’s alright. Like I said, I’m not here to kill you. There’s no need to be scared.”

  


“I’m not scared of you,” Giles replies with conviction. Angelus stops and puts his face right in front of Giles’, expecting the man to flinch. He doesn’t.

  


“No, you’re not,” Angelus agrees with a frown. “But you are afraid.” Giles steps around the vampire and continues walking. He needs to get out of this situation before he does something stupid. The vampire wraps his arm around Giles’ shoulders as the evening journey continues. “Don’t go running off now, Sunnydale’s not safe at night and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  


“What do you want? If it’s just to terrorise Buffy then it’s not working,” Giles snaps as they continue walking. He knows that’s a blatant lie, but he doesn’t care at this point. Trying to shrug Angelus off doesn’t work.

  


“It’s really interesting you know, the fact that you’re not scared for yourself. I could gut you where you stand, and you wouldn’t even care. I bet you’d like that. To not have to feel so damn useless all the time.” Giles tries to ignore the vampire, it’s not too far now, another few minutes and he can be rid of it.

  


“Perhaps, but you won’t because you find this little charade much more amusing. You would’ve killed me by now if you really wanted to.”

  


“Guilty is charged!” Angelus laughs raising his free hand. He remarks the man closely, staring right into his eyes. “You crave it though, the pain to stop. The emptiness to end. You want me to find you. That’s why you’re out tonight. No precious little Buffy to protect you. I can make it go away; all you’ve got to do is say yes.”

  


“Get fucked!” Giles yells, once more fighting against the vampire’s grip. Realising his attempts are futile, Giles stops struggling. As with everything, Angelus will know that he’s struck a particular nerve. He’s rewarded with a hearty clap on the back that knocks the wind right out of him.

  


“You really shouldn’t hurt yourself, it’s not healthy,” Angelus taunts. “I didn’t do anything to you. And for the record, I gotta say, I’m surprised that you’ve not asked me yet.”

  


“Asked what?” Giles coughs getting air back into his lungs.

  


“You know, about why Jenny, or whatever her name was, had to go,” the way Angelus is explaining it with that sickening grin as if asking about something trivial makes Giles’ stomach do somersaults. He should never have risen to the bait. “It was never about you. It was because Buffy didn’t like her. I just wanted to make Buffy happy, so the gypsy bitch had to go, simple as that.”

  


Pulling some of the dirtiest street fighting moves he can, Giles manages to escape the vampire and sprints in the direction of his flat. It’s about a mile and a half away, but he can do it. His feet crash against the concrete, heart pounding in protest, he has to get away. Unfortunately, the only safe place to go is the very reason that he went out in the first place.

  


Jumping down the steps into the courtyard, a triumphant Giles races towards his front door, keys in hand. Barely ten feet away from safety, Angelus leaps out, grabbing Giles by the shoulder with a bone crushing grip. The vampire is the only thing preventing Giles from ending up on his arse again. Finding his footing, the Watcher attempts to break free, only Angelus isn’t going to let him go this time. The pressure on his shoulder is enough to make his knees weak, but Giles refuses to give Angelus the satisfaction of crying out.

  


“Y’know, I was just trying to help you,” Angelus declares, spinning the Watcher around to face him and taking the keys from his shaking hand. “All I wanted to do was have a pleasant conversation and then you attack me out of nowhere.” He unlocks the door and pushes it open, not at all surprised to find that his invitation was revoked. The vampire grabs Giles’ jaw with his spare hand, forcing the Watcher’s face close to his own. “You get one warning Giles, that was it. Next time I see you, my hand will be ripping the still beating heart out of your chest to give to your precious little Slayer and her friends. I wonder if you’ll look as scared as Jenny did.” Giles tried to wriggle away but Angelus holds him still. “All alone, she thought you were going to swoop in and save her, all hero watcher. Imagine her disappointment. Especially if she could see you now.” And with that, the vampire throws Giles into his flat, relishing in the sound of the man crashing onto the floor. “Sleep well Rupert.”

  


Scrambling across the floor, Giles slams the door and bolts it shut. Fucking hell. Chest heaving, he leaned against the door and closes his eyes tightly. The mental image of Jenny being beyond terrified makes him scream in pure anguish. He could’ve stopped it. All he had to do was stay. Drawing his knees under his chin, Giles curls up and waits for dawn to break.

  


*****

  


Willow was exhausted by the time she entered the magic shop. It’d taken an all-nighter, but she’d finally found what she was looking for. Spells are tricky and she doesn’t really have the skill to execute advanced magicks. However, after extensive research, Willow had discovered that because the high school is on a hellmouth, there’s plenty of mystical energy to tap into which will make spells easier to cast. It’d also taken a considerable amount of time to decide exactly what she wanted to do. The smell of the incense in the little shop was equally overpowering and reassuring. It seemed to be soothing her nerves for some bizarre reason.

  


“Blessed be,” the shopkeeper greets her. A smiley lady with frizzy hair, holding a jar of newt eyeballs. Willow vaguely recalls seeing her at the funeral where she’d seemed friendly enough. “What can I help you with this morning?” Willow pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket and shows it to the lady. “Ah, I see. Have you much experience in this sort of area?”

  


“Not as such but I figured that by channelling the energy instead of conjuring it, then I could pull it off,” Willow explains as the shopkeeper starts picking out the items on the list and putting them on the counter. The shopkeeper seems impressed, _take that Giles_.

  


“And you’ve practiced the pronunciation of the incantation? It needs to be exact,” She explains. Willow nods eagerly. She hadn’t yet but there’s a plan for that providing she isn’t late to school.

  


“Brilliant. I don’t want a lovely young lady like yourself getting hurt.” Willow gives her a smile with her tongue sticking between her teeth. “Great. Well you’re all set. I hope it goes well for you.” Willow thanks the shopkeeper and exits the shop quickly. Checking her watch, she sighs with relief. Plenty of time for a quick detour to the science lab before homeroom if she’s quick.

  


The bell rings and Willow exits the science lab triumphantly. She did it! Or at least the literal part of it in so far as making the contents of the vial in her hand. Next stage of the plan, tapping Giles’ Latin skills. He’s completely fluent so there’s no way he won’t know the correct way to pronounce certain words. She’d also learned how to light a candle with magic. Not particularly well but well enough that it’d impress her friends. That was being saved for after school when they’d have their daily Scooby Gang meetings to check in.

  


“Hey Will,” Xander yells running to catch up with his friend. Willow can’t contain her excitement. This is going to work, she feels it. “Why are you so happy? Not that I’m complaining, but you seem extra peppy today.” Her smile falters. Should she tell Xander? If she does, he might object and talk her out of it. He won’t understand. She’s doing a simple couple of spells to help her friends, that’s all. There’s no evil intent, no nasty thoughts just wanting to make them happy.

  


“Dunno, just woke up and thought happy things,” she smiles. “I’ll catch you later.” She all but skips towards the library leaving Xander staring after her with his mouth agape. What the hell is going on?

  


Just outside the doors to the Library, Willow’s smile is wiped off her face and she feels sick with nerves. What if Giles figures out what she’s doing? What if he gets mad? What if her spell doesn’t work? Too many variables. God, what if it ends up going wrong? No, it won’t, because Willow knows what she’s doing. She’s got it all under control.

  


“Giles?” Willow asks tentatively as she enters the library. She spots him in the book cage and frowns. He looks absolutely drained. “You okay?”

  


“Hmm?” The Librarian turns to face her and frowns. “Oh yes… f-fine.”

  


“You sure?”

  


“Y-yes of course,” he clears his throat. “Was there something I could do for you?” Upon seeing the dark circles under his eyes and the desperately sad look on his face, Willow’s starting to doubt herself. He didn’t look quite so bad yesterday, tired sure but he’s always tired. They often tease him about if because he’s so old that maybe he needs afternoon naps. Maybe it’s because it’s really early in the morning and he just hasn’t woken up yet? That happens to her all the time. No, this seems like a really bad time.

  


“It’s nothing, I can see you’re busy,” she sighs preparing to leave.

  


“No, I’ll more than happily make time for you Willow,” he exhales putting the books down. The expression on his face melts her heart. He’s doing the little smile again. “I’m sure whatever it is, it’s far more interesting than updating the card index.”

  


“I just… came across something I was reading last night but it’s in Latin and I don’t know how to pronounce it,” Willow explains. “I was wondering if maybe… if you’re not too busy and all… you could lend me your brain for five minutes?”

  


“Of course,” Giles offers instantly. “Do you have the text with you? Good. Why don’t I make some tea and we can go through it?” Willow’s nerves are still making themselves known but this is what she’s missed. Time with Giles where they’re hanging out being book nerds. A few minutes later, Giles returns from his office and sets a cup of tea down gently in front of her. “Right, which part did you need assistance with?”

  


“You know how I’ve been doing some reading around paganism and the black arts for… educational fun because it’s super interesting?” Willow starts. Giles barely contains his look of horror. What the bloody hell is she doing looking into the black arts for? “I came across this particular incantation last night and I had trouble trying to sound it out.” Pointing to the relevant part of the page, Giles pushes his glasses up his nose and reads the text.

  


“Willow you’re not conjuring anything are you? These forces are not what one ought to be meddling with,” he frowns seriously.

  


“No of course not!” Willow cried. “I just wanted to learn how to be all multi-lingual and this one seemed as good a place as any to start.” Keep it together Willow, you’re almost there. Giles cleans his glasses and replaces them on his face. Did Willow tell him she was doing this? Is he that self-absorbed that he forgot? No surely not?

  


“Um… well have you managed to translate it?”

  


“I think so. It’s something about removing guilt tainting the soul.”

  


“It roughly translates t-to wanting the intended target to be free from the burden of guilt so that their life may continue it’s natural course. It’s a sort of… perception change if you will,” Giles delving into lecture mode always makes her feel safe. It’s like when he talks, he’s so engrossed in the topic that he lets it consume his every thought. Something about his voice soothes her, it must be the accent. “I think I have come across it before, give me a moment to find the relevant text.” Perfect.

  


As Giles hops up the stairs and disappears into the stacks, Willow pulls the small vial out of her dungarees pocket and empties the contents of it into Giles’ tea. Picking up the teaspoon on her saucer, she stirs it as quietly as she can, careful not to let the spoon hit the edges of the mug. Once she’s satisfied it’s been mixed in, she quickly replaces the spoon as if nothing has happened. 

  


“Socius amicusque tenentes saepenumero ab anima in pace,” Giles mumbles. He quickly checks it against the text in front of Willow and smiles to himself. “Yes, definitely the same incantation. Used by eastern European religious sects in the early fifteenth century to cleanse those wishing to be anointed. In order to be free of past sins, the incantation would be used to free them from the burden of guilt in order to grow and adapt as people.”

  


“So, it’s a good spell?” Willow asks, seeking confirmation.

  


“It appears to be however, that’s not t-to suggest that it’s harmless. Guilt is a fundamental aspect of humanity, i-it’s part of what separates us from demons and creatures of evil, t-though evidently there are some humans w-who are incapable of feeling guilt. If performed correctly, it would allow an individual to be free of guilt from their past transgressions but not eliminate the capacity for it in future ones. In other words, i-it simply wipes the slate clean.” Bingo! That’s exactly what she’d hoped it’d do and extra bonus, not turning anyone into a psychotic axe murderer in the process.

  


“That’s pretty cool,” Willow exclaims.

  


“I suppose in a sense,” Giles argues taking a sip of his tea. She watches him carefully for any signs of realisation. Nothing. He made a slight grimace at first, it probably does taste different. Shit. He’s going to figure it out. Of course he is. This is stupid. Giles sets the mug back and turns to face Willow. “What’s piqued your interest in this spell anyway?”

  


“I dunno, I just came across it and saw there were a few contractions I’d not come across before. And you’re all big with the dead languages so I figured pestering you would be a neat idea.”

  


“Willow, you’re not pestering me at all I assure you,” he replies with a smile.

  


“So obviously hypothetically, would the pronunciation have to be exact to get spells like this to work?” 

  


“Um… i-in most cases yes to achieve the desired effect. Obviously if the incantation is in a dead language where there is no reliably agreed upon aural articulation, then it would be up to interpretation. Magic is not just about words though; it requires the energies of the caster to be in the right alignment. Evidently, those spells being cast with purely self-centred intentions will tend to draw from darker magicks and those with pure intentions are to be of the light, more natural magicks. It completely depends and it’s not all black and white.”

“You really know something about everything huh Giles?” Willow says in awe. Giles looks away sheepishly.

“Not at all, just a misspent youth and a career based around supernatural and occult forces,” he takes another sip of tea. “Now, I believe you were struggling on diction?”

“What… oh yeah!” Willow remembers. Giles obliges and recites the indicated phrases to her. They continue that way until Willow is absolutely confident that she can do it. “I assume the rest of the surrounding literature explains how to perform the ritual?”

“Hmm?” Giles finishes his tea and looks up at her apparently lost in thought. “Yes, I’d imagine so. But it’s not really a ritual, more of a spell. More powerful sorcerers would be able to perform it without the necessity for anything other than the incantation. I must confess, I’m no expert on magicks.”

“Stop being modest,” Willow scolded with a small smile. “Mr Smarty-pants watcher man doesn’t know everything, so what?”

“Best not tell the others or my reputation for being an encyclopaedia with arms shall be ruined,” he smirks. “Is it just that which you needed help with or is there something else I can do for you?”

“Can’t we just hang out?” Willow asks sadly. He’s becoming a robot again and shutting down. Why won’t he just stay sat with her? They don’t need to talk; silent companionship is good enough. She really just needs to know that he’ll be there when she needs him because right now, it feels like he’s doing everything in his power to avoid her. And that hurts almost as much as knowing Ms Calendar’s gone.

“If you’d like, I do have a few things to be getting on with, but they can wait.”

“No, it’s okay, you do your sacred librarian duties,” Willow reassures him getting to her feet. There’s no point even trying anymore, this was a lousy idea. At least she got to figure out the incantation, so it won’t go wrong for Buffy later. In fact, she’s got time to do it now. All it’ll take is a candle and stinky herbs then hey presto, one guilt free Buffy. Plus, her best friend will actually want to spend time with her instead of Giles. With a final nod to the librarian, Willow exits the library and heads for the janitor’s closet. Time to put this spell into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* I do apologise for my tardiness. It's been hectic, as with everything in the world these past few weeks but here we are. 
> 
> It's been a rough couple of days I can't lie but it is what it is. I figured making this and the next few chapters a bit more fun would lighten the mood from all the doom and gloom. I've become obsessed with The Crown on Netflix for some obscure reason and it's not something I'd normally watch but now I can't stop. Plus I'm back on my Whouffaldi shit (sorry Mum) so someone stake me. Literally can't get over that it was like five years ago... I feel old which at the baby age of 19 isn't allowed. 
> 
> I've introduced a flatmate to BtVS and I can hear her screaming something about Willow being cat-fished so I think she's on I Robot You Jane... Poor girl


End file.
